June 9, 2014
Well I haven’t written in my journal for about 3 weeks and though not a lot has gone on, there have been some significant changes that have happened and there is further transition on the horizon. But not to worry dear wise old sage journal, I’ll catch you up. The same goes for you too, Invisible Journal Reading People. IJRP. That looks like one of those personality types. Introverted, Judging, (?), Perceiving. There’s no R in that, the Myers-Briggs things, so I have to make it up. Um, Rigormortified. Introverted, Judging, Rigormortified, Perceiving. Now is this supposed to describe my Invisible Journal Reading People, me, or my journal, or all as a collective? I like the collective idea. I’m introverted, yet kind of outgoing. There’s a misconception about introverts that they can’t be outgoing. I’m just kinda shy. I guess I’m judging, of myself, of other people, I can make harsh judgments against things I morally disagree with, and if those things are really bad, I become rigormortified. And we all know about my perceptive abilities. Now I’m beginning to sound like I have dissociative disorder. No you don’t Grimm, thanks Constable, whatever happened to Valente? And bada bing I’m insane.
I just wanted to segue into the use of the expression, bada bing.
And bada bing I digress.
Anyway, my name is Wall Grimm and these are the things I need to recap on:
WALL GRIMM’S LIST OF HAPPENINGS AND DEVELOPMENTS
1. I completed writing my novel Amon-Re, and I’m happy with it, but it needs work, maybe I’ll revise, but for now I need to step away for perspective. (Perceiving).
2. Sweetheart’s letter and departure. (Rigormortified).
3. Snow White’s impending visit. (Can’t recap on that since it hasn’t happened yet, and I guess I only have to say that she’s coming to visit in July or August —and am I shy about it? Yeah, I guess, kinda, maybe, Introverted).
4. Howard and Daisy found a place. Pete, Cola, and I have been looking. And speaking of insane, Bogart might be getting out and his mother wants him to live with me. hmmmmm. (Judging). Why judging? Because we will be one peculiar lot, that’s for sure. And I’m judging whether or not Bogart is live-withable. Very uncertain about that.
5. My drunkenness during and following my serenade to Emma that night. (Introverted, Judging, Rigormortified, Perceiving). Yep, that covers all four.
The word rigormortified just reminded me of rigatoni. Rigatonified. Rigamortonified. Rigamacaronified.
Ok, and finally, the focus of today’s journal entry is the one and only Emma, so here goes.
I haven’t written since May 19th which was two days after I performed with The Convoy at Sharly’s coffee house and serenaded Emma. Emma told me that night that she was still going to Spain, for which I can’t blame her. I understand travel and going out to see the world, experiencing life to its fullest. I even get why she wouldn’t want me to go, because it’s something you need to do on your own sometimes.
Anyway, a week after the coffee house, on the 24th, Emma’s family gave her a graduation/going away party which I was invited to yet I chose not to attend. I guess it would have showed a lot of dignity if I attended, but I opted for nondignification and chose to stay home like a pining whiner and a pussy. Actually, that’s not true, I just thought that sentence would sound cool. I worked and never asked for the night off, purposely. And even though Sharly let me go early because she had plenty of help that evening, including from Cola who stayed, I went home. I wasn’t feeling bad for myself, I was feeling embarrassed and awkward. I very publicly exposed my heart and soul to mostly everyone in my life, and to a bunch of strangers. I’m only slightly embarrassed and awkward though, since I anticipated this. I just didn’t want to go to Emma’s party, plain and simple.
So it was about 10pm that night, and there’s a knock at my door, which is bizarre because no one ever visits me at Howard’s. I figured it must have been Howard, so I said, “yep, come in.” But it was Emma. She left her own party to come see me.
She said that she was going to leave for Spain on June 1st, and so that last week with her in town was going to be very busy for her and she wouldn’t have much time to see anyone apart from her parents, hence the going away party. She said she was hoping to see me at the party and asked why I didn’t go. I told her I had to work and then I was just tired, I guess. But after she asked I realized that if I would have gone, I’d just not talk to many people, I have a hard time being social without alcohol, and I would have only wanted to see Emma, but I expected she’d be busy talking to everyone, and it would just kinda make me sad that she was even leaving. I don’t know. Something like that, it’s very complex.
But I told her I worked and I was tired. She told me she snuck out of the party. She told one person where she was going in case people noticed she was gone, no one would worry. Then she just sat on my bed next to me and we were quiet for a little while. It seemed she knew as little about what to say as I did. But she began at some point the conversation which entailed a series of “remember when…?” It was cool to laugh at funny memories, but essentially the whole situation was pretty sad, clearly a heavy goodbye that was literally painful in my heart. It’s so true that your heart hurts when you experience pain in any kind of love.
After about an hour, we got silent again and, since we had slid down more so that we were no longer sitting on my bed, but lying on my bed beside each other, looking at the ceiling as we talked, she propped herself up and onto her side so her face was above mine and was just looking at me. I wanted to kiss her, my heart began to pound, I felt kind of breathless. She said, “I don’t have to tell you how handsome you are, because I’m sure you know. A lot of girls want you.”
I didn’t respond. That’s a strange statement to respond to without sounding egotistical, falsely modest, or like an idiot. So I said nothing. And what would “thank you” mean after a comment like that, it’s kind of a stupid thing to respond with, as well is a counter-compliment, which would just seem insincere. “thank you and yeah, right back at ya.” Nope.
Then she kissed me and I kissed back and we kissed a little more, then she moved her hand down and attempted to start rubbing my dick over my pants, but I jumped up off the bed and I was like, “no Emma.”
Who was that guy? Was that me? Damn, yeah it was. I rejected Emma. hmmmmmm…
I had to seriously jump away though because any longer and the Dick-tator would have been in charge, though he already was to a certain extent, but somehow Brain rose up against the regime and came out victorious. Do I really have to point out all the puns in that?
I said to her something along the lines of, “I know why you want to do this, but I think it’s wrong. It’s too sacred to give away just to get it over with. I’m not the guy to do that. I respect you too much. …And I think I’d feel kinda used, which never mattered to me, but with you, it would matter.”
Then I excused myself to the bathroom to jerk off. When I came back out, we didn’t talk about it anymore. We just watched a MST3K, “Space Mutiny”, then she said goodbye, and returned to the party, and at this time now, she’s been in Spain for just over a week. And yeah…she’s gone.
next Grimm 190: The Timey Wimey Journal That Goes Ping & Tossing Figurative Cookies http://wp.me/p41c99-UC
previous Grimm 188: For Emma http://wp.me/p41c99-Rf
For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J
Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.