I think about her all the time. But, dig, here's a story. In September of 1991 Jenna showed up at Patrick's party with her boyfriend in tow. A hole opened up in my heart the second I saw her with that guy. Later, I just sat by myself and drank and fumed. Some joker put on "Orgasm Addict" by the Buzzcocks and I took offense. But, here's the thing, I love the Buzzcocks and that album, and so I cranked up the jams and sat there and drank by myself and jammed some more.
Finally, after the record finished on the first side, I went out to the porch and got a beer. Andrea, an old coworker from G/M Steakhouse, sat near the keg. We started talking, and long story short, my outburst directed at Jenna went, "Well, since you're not supposed to be here, you have to pay! Yeah, you have to pay!" I put the second side of Singles Going Steady on, sat back on the couch, and fumed with the jams some more.
In the days that followed, what seemed to Sam and Davey like a desperate hail-mary of an accusation towards Jenna seemed to resonate. Jenna broke up with that boyfriend and started paying attention to me. Well, everything just went downhill from there, and I degenerated into diagnosis and treatment the following Summer, 1992.
I think about that, "You're not supposed to be here, so you have to pay," statement now when I think of this girl. If it's true that she thinks of me so much that she wants to hurt me for that, well. I like her, I really do, but maybe the best course of action remains the physical distance between us. If she thinks about me to the point of getting emotionally claustrophobic at inopportune times, then maybe my best course of action would involve staying the fuck away from her.
I've said in past posts that women may obsess on me a lot more than I know. I don't know if that's true, but maybe so. I could see being platonic friends with this girl, but that's about it. If she wants counseling for her problems, she should see a professional. I've lost hope of finding competent counseling for my problems, but often women, especially attractive young women with all sorts of dating options, can do a lot better, I think. I hated how therapists always talked about relationships, relationships, relationships, as some sort of panacea (cure-all) for whatever ailed me in my relationship with women. I've come to view this constant push in that direction by therapists in regards to my dilemmas as very inappropriate counseling. I mean, look at who I'm preoccupied with now. I don't think an intimate relationship between myself and this young woman would cure a damn thing in either of us. But, seeing as how I've been someone who has found themselves extremely preoccupied with this type in my adult life, yet never really dated such a person as her, who am I to judge? An example of sarcasm.
I've come to view platonic relationships between myself and women as one way streets. Either the attraction goes from me towards this friend without any coming back, or it's the other way around. In her case, I would have to find myself honor bound to not fuck with her to the point where...oh, fuck me. I don't know. I don't know if I could pull that off.
Finally, after the record finished on the first side, I went out to the porch and got a beer. Andrea, an old coworker from G/M Steakhouse, sat near the keg. We started talking, and long story short, my outburst directed at Jenna went, "Well, since you're not supposed to be here, you have to pay! Yeah, you have to pay!" I put the second side of Singles Going Steady on, sat back on the couch, and fumed with the jams some more.
In the days that followed, what seemed to Sam and Davey like a desperate hail-mary of an accusation towards Jenna seemed to resonate. Jenna broke up with that boyfriend and started paying attention to me. Well, everything just went downhill from there, and I degenerated into diagnosis and treatment the following Summer, 1992.
I think about that, "You're not supposed to be here, so you have to pay," statement now when I think of this girl. If it's true that she thinks of me so much that she wants to hurt me for that, well. I like her, I really do, but maybe the best course of action remains the physical distance between us. If she thinks about me to the point of getting emotionally claustrophobic at inopportune times, then maybe my best course of action would involve staying the fuck away from her.
I've said in past posts that women may obsess on me a lot more than I know. I don't know if that's true, but maybe so. I could see being platonic friends with this girl, but that's about it. If she wants counseling for her problems, she should see a professional. I've lost hope of finding competent counseling for my problems, but often women, especially attractive young women with all sorts of dating options, can do a lot better, I think. I hated how therapists always talked about relationships, relationships, relationships, as some sort of panacea (cure-all) for whatever ailed me in my relationship with women. I've come to view this constant push in that direction by therapists in regards to my dilemmas as very inappropriate counseling. I mean, look at who I'm preoccupied with now. I don't think an intimate relationship between myself and this young woman would cure a damn thing in either of us. But, seeing as how I've been someone who has found themselves extremely preoccupied with this type in my adult life, yet never really dated such a person as her, who am I to judge? An example of sarcasm.
I've come to view platonic relationships between myself and women as one way streets. Either the attraction goes from me towards this friend without any coming back, or it's the other way around. In her case, I would have to find myself honor bound to not fuck with her to the point where...oh, fuck me. I don't know. I don't know if I could pull that off.
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