May 7, 2014
I went to see Bogart on Saturday and he told me that he might be getting out in maybe a month, so at this point, I’m not sure what that means in terms of how I might be involved in his life, if I am at all. I just know that Howard and Daisy found a place to move and their house is on the market, so I’ve been looking around for a new place. I have no idea what kind of place to look for though. I have many possibilities. My name is Wall Grimm, and these are my options:
WALL GRIMM’S FUTURE POTENTIAL DOMESTICISMS
1. Move to Spain with Emma or Emma stays around here after I woo her with my song and we live together. Probably not happening.
2. I find a place with Cola. Most likely situation.
3. Maybe we will rent a big house where Pete and Sweetheart will move in as well. Must have a large bedroom for me where I can barricade myself.
4. In any of the above situations, it is possible that Bogart might be involved somehow. Disconcerting prospect. The guy’s great, but what would it be like living with him when I’m not myself mentally unstable.
5. My ideal situation would be living alone.
No matter what, I don’t want to sleep on the floor or the couch anymore. Every time I have a place, I end up on the couch after giving someone else my room. And that’s never temporary. My room becomes their room. So I’m liking the house idea. I’m just looking around for various places–apartments, townhouses, houses, even studios in case I do get to live alone. I figure when I encounter the right place it will be obvious. The optimistic fragment in me also doesn’t want to commit to anything until after I serenade Emma. However, after Saturday night and a conversation I had with Iona, the reality of it has been hard to accept. Well, not really, I guess it’s just something I’ve known all along. But I’ll talk about that later.
Saturday night John had a semi-dry party which means people only were supposed to drink beer and wine and the evening was not supposed to end up in any kind of Romanesque drunken debauchery. It didn’t, and since I was drinking O’Doul’s, it wasn’t too difficult to stay clean. Even after my relapse. This is because hard liquor tempts me the most. Well, I’m kind of lying. It was difficult, but not impossible, because I did it.
My friends all liked Cola, and when she finally was able to put names to faces after reading my journals she said she assumed all my friends were white. I guess I never described anyone physically much. Most of them are white, though I prefer to describe them by their nationalities. But those who stand out as non-white are: Jay who is black, his family originally comes from Belize. Ayla is half Puerto Rican, half Irish, which is a bizarre mix that you can probably only find around Boston. And Danika’s parents were actually born in Haiti, but Danika was born in Boston. Emma, which I’ve state before is 1/4 black from Zimbabwe, 1/4 Italian, and 1/2 Columbian. Otherwise the nationalities are Irish, English, Italian, French, and a variety of European concoctions, not simply white. On forms when I have to put my ethnicity, I don’t usually put white. I check other. And if they give me a space to write it in, I write “Siciliani Romani” or just “Sicilian” depending on my mood. Cola often blatantly comes out with these kinds of observations. I like that that about her. C-O-L-A Cola.
Anyway, I was outside smoking a cigarette around some other people. Yeah I’m smoking again, but not as much. The relapse did it. And it’s harder to stay clean when you don’t smoke, but I’ll get there. But I was smoking and a girl approached me and she said, “hey Grimm!”
I said, “hey” without knowing who she was.
She started gabbing on and on and then stopped to say, “you don’t even know who I am, do you?”
I said, sorry, no, I don’t remember you. Then she slapped me wicked hard, called me an asshole, and stormed off. Ayla said she thinks she remembers that I hooked up with her one night. Back in the days of drunken yore probably because, damn, she was hot, how could I have forgotten getting some of that? Ayla said she loves to see me get slapped, it’s kind of a turn on for her. “uhh thanks?” Then she discretely offered me a blow job, so we went off into John’s room, but I decided I didn’t want one, I wanted sex. I wanted my naked body up against the naked body of a woman. I get laid so much less now that I don’t go out to clubs and I’m not drinking and drugging so I guess I’m shyer or less likely to approach a girl. And I’m in general less often in social situations like this.
When we left the bedroom, it was obvious what we did, at least to Iona who had a hurt look on her face. I felt bad even though we don’t have a relationship so I went over to her. She came outside with me so I could smoke. We went to the front where no one was hanging out. At first we were quiet, then she started talking. She said that she didn’t want to be mean, but she was just thinking about how much I love Emma, and she brought up my plan to perform at the bookstore and sing a song I wrote for her. Apparently I confided this to Iona when I stayed with her while I was relapsing, but she won’t tell anyone. She said she didn’t want to be mean and she didn’t want to hurt me but she was thinking that Emma couldn’t possibly love me like I love her or in any way that I’d want her to. If she did, then I wouldn’t have to pursue her so much. Iona said that my feelings for Emma are obvious, even to Emma, and that any woman who loves a guy would not play so hard to get.
I tried to rationalize by saying that Emma is different, she’s level headed and she has goals, and she won’t let anything stand in the way of her goals. But I didn’t believe what I was saying. Iona told me that maybe it’s good I’m doing the performance since it will enable me to move on after, and I should prepare myself for that. If Iona wasn’t such a nice person I’d think she was being a bitch. But I had to focus on her intentions. Essentially she doesn’t want to see me hurt. She loves me like I love Emma. I tried to kiss her then, because it felt like a moment to do that, but she turned away and reminded me I had just been with Ayla, that’s rude and disgusting. I said sorry and decided then that I wanted to go home before I’d start drinking. I didn’t mean to offend or hurt Iona. So I told her to tell Cola that I was going and I walked away.
Ten minutes later, Iona pulls up beside me in her car with Cola in the passenger seat. I got in since I was contemplating going to the liquor store. We went to Denny’s to eat and stayed for a couple hours. I didn’t say much but they talked, and I was just glad to be there and not out getting drunk or anything. I don’t know, I’m beginning to hate love, it just seems to cause pain in every way that it exists.
Theme song: “These Eyes” by The Guess Who, because when you’re hurt because of love, whether it’s unreciprocated, used, ended, denied, abused, or lost even in cases of death, it’s a betrayal in any number of interpretations.
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