Diary Friday

More high-school-junior madness. Crush on saxophone player (referred to here as DW) growing by leaps and bounds. I crush on people HARD. Always have. This was the crush to end all crushes. It sounds kind of funny now to go back and read these crazy journal entries about him – but it was NOT funny while I was in it – and when it didn’t work out – “crushed” doesn’t even come close to how I felt about it.

Years later – 4 years maybe?? – DW showed up at a play I was doing in college. It was a huge success, and we got a lot of attention for it. I, specifically, got a lot of attention. So maybe he read one of the articles about the play – and remembered his old high school friend – and decided to come check me out. We had not remained in touch at all. Goodness, no. We were barely FRIENDS in high school. I was just MADLY IN LOVE WITH HIM but we weren’t friends. Keeping in touch? I was 16 years old. I didn’t want to “keep in touch” with him after he left high school. No way! Moving on!

So I came out into the lobby that night, after doing my show – and when I saw HIM – this boy from my high school past – there he was – leaning up against the wall waiting for me – I just … could not even believe it. There was this huge THUD within me at the sight of his face. He was now 21. WAY older than the 17 year old I had loved from afar so passionately. So much had happened since high school!

I found my high school self quaint and kind of silly – especially now that I was an old lady of 19. I was dating someone by then – my co-star – and we were having a passionate and melodramatic time of it. (Ahem. And Ahem. And Ahem.) I was consumed with my present-day life – but when I came out of that theatre, and saw the guy I had once LOVED … from AFAR … in high school – leaning up against the wall, grinning at me – I thought I would faint. Or vomit. It was unbeLIEVable how strong the response still was. This wasn’t about emotion. It was about a physical response. I know I’m in trouble when my stomach does a flip-flop, or when I feel a sense of vertigo. Emotions are nothing compared to that stuff. That stuff seems to last forever – while emotions fade. Anyway, that was the case with me. I was deeply involved in my present-day vertigo-inducing romance with my costar – and yet when I saw high-school-boy my knees nearly gave out.

We had a brief conversation – awkward and poignant and SO sweet. He was so kind. He said, awkwardly, “Yeah, I read about you in the paper … so I figured … I’d come and support the old SK graduate!” He came by himself. The whole thing just blew me away. He … remembered me? He … saw my name in the paper … and felt enough connection to me that he would … come up and see me? It was so WEIRDLY validating – not only of the success I was having in that moment, but also – of who I was in high school. I had invested time and heart into this guy – and … there he was. If the 16 year old who wrote all the journal entries about him could have ever seen that a mere 4 years later, he would show up at her show in college, and they would have a brief nice conversation in the lobby, and that then her present BOYFRIEND would come up and she would introduce the two of them (what??) – and they all would be nice and polite and grown-up, and the two males would shake hands like adult men – and that she would then sashay off with her BOYFRIEND leaving the guy she had loved so much in high school behind – her head would have exploded. It’s just kind of weird.

I’m talking about this way too much and I’m not talking about it all that well. I guess I’m saying that … his showing up to see my big success was a class act. And it certainly closed the circle for me.

Anyway – here is an entry from November of my junior year. I had never given DW a second thought – he seemed kind of arrogant – but suddenly I had a couple of classes with him in my junior year, and I fell HEAD OVER HEELS in love with the dude.

NOVEMBER 11 – VETERAN’S DAY

I am now here at Meredith’s. It’s 10:00 but it feels like it’s midnight. GOD. AM I TIRED.

Today I went over to Mere’s bright and early so we could see the parade together. As Mere got ready (she was still in her pjs), we listened to records, looked at rock magazines, and talked about boys. [Uhm, central casting??] We talked about two boys in particular.

Anyway, we started out and the parade had already started so I rudely tore down the sidewalk and perched on the curb looking for the band. Mere caught up with Dolores — just then the band was going by — in their blue suits and hats with plumes.

DW wasn’t playing. He was leading the whole thing. He was dressed in a white sort of Sergeant Pepper suit with white sneakers – he held a shiny post with a ball on the end [Uhm – a baton, Sheila?] – he waved that. [Now I know I have so much distance between then and now – but come on. I was in love with this guy and suddenly I get to see him as Harold feckin’ Hill?? Of COURSE I was in love with him!! “76 trombones led the big parade …” I mean, who could resist??] Around his neck hung a whistle. He’s such a big shot. I love it. I almost died when I first saw him. He looked so grand. He was walking backwards, facing the band – arms up – conducting – He kept glancing over his shoulder, and then turning back. I never knew he looked so cute. HE WAS GORGEOUS! Mere quietly stood there letting me sob on her shoulder – then – (the parade was a big 3 minutes) – we went down to Hazard School where the whole parade and everyone gathered for the memorial service for the dead veterans.

The whole walk down, I felt so weird inside. My DW feeling.

Everyone was gathered on the lawn around the big plaque – with all the names on it. The band was standing near it in lines, all holding their instruments. DW stood in line with the first row – but off to the side. He leaned his hands on the post in front of him. I didn’t know he was going to be so gorgeous. He looked so solemn.

Mere and I stood smack opposite him. He was looking straight my way. Mere murmured to me, “Sheila, he is looking right at you.” “I know. I know.”

During the prayer, he bowed his head. [And, uhm, obviously you didn’t.] I liked to see that. I like to see that he has a serious side. I could talk seriously to him.

After the ceremony, Mere and I ran over to talk to J as the band walked back to the schoool. J’s so cute – she kept ordering me, “Come into the band room, Sheila! Come on! Strike up a conversation!” I kept saying, “Right. Right.”

Finally, Mere and I did. It was havoc. [It was always havoc in the band room.] All those blue uniforms and plumes running around. J kept giving me burning glares across the room. [My heart is in my stomach! Hahaha Even now – so many years later!] I casually leaned up against a column in the middle of the room, talking to Mere. Suddenly, Mere mouthed hugely, “He’s right there.” I glanced over my shoulder. There he was. Leaning on the very same post as me. Our backs were touching.

I cannot even explain it. How can anyone explain the feeling? God, I wish I were eloquent. I know exactly the feeling, but I can’t put it into words.

It’s like this. I like DW so much it aches. It yawns and gnaws away inside me. (How poetic)

Anyway, I turned back to Mere, with an agonized glance – then suddenly DW sort of circled the column – using his shoulder as a pivot – so that he came face to face with me. He is so huge. He turns me on. Tall men! I like that!

He grinned down at me. “So … how did we look out there marching?”

I wanted to throw myself on him screaming, “YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS!” but I just smiled. “You guys looked really good. Very dignified.” “How’d we sound?” “You weren’t playing when you passed us.” Then someone walked by and asked DW “What time do we gotta be here tomorrow?” DW lifted his hand to his forehead and rubbed it, thinking. His elbow brushed against my forehead. His voice is so deep. “Eight o’clock.” I stared at him. “The game starts at eight?” “Oh … no. But we have to get here early so we can jam and stuff.” [I find that absolutely endearing.] “Ah!”

Then DW went off to put his sax away. Mere made this up: DW has “sax appeal”. So then. Mere and I waved to J and left. As we left, I heard sly J yell, “See ya tomorrow, Sheila!”

All the way home, Mere and I – I love her – [Note: It is not possible for me to put FOUR underlines beneath the words “I love her” – but just know that that is how it appears in the original] I am the most fortunate girl in the world. Thank you God! THANK YOU, GOD!! Dave turned to talk to me! What am I gonna do?

I’m going to the Homecoming with J and April. Mr. President will probably be there. I will not ask him to dance. I will let him ask me. I think he will if I give him a chance. I’ll just strike up a conversation with him. See if he does care or if it’s my overactive imagination.

Then – we all went to the Umbrella Factory – the most wonderful little store full of everything – posters of everyone, knick knacks, boxes, jewelry, mobiles – all crammed into a tiny ramshackle building. I bought a new diary. I’m almost run out on this one. My new one is beautiful. It’s Chinese – or Japanese? – a woven cover of reds ilk with shiny thread – with little embroidered pagodas and flowers – I love it! And I bought a Jimmy poster [No need for last names. Me and Jimmy Dean – we’re like THIS!] and some wicked stationery. [I love when the word “wicked” shows up in this context in these journals. hahahaha]

Then we went to the Gift Barn – a quaint group of stores around a small duck pond. I had run out of money by then but we had a good time anyway. I am exhausted and Mere is now ready for bed – and so am I! [Mere – while I was sleeping over your house – I sat there WRITING IN MY DIARY? How rude. I apologize! I am sure you were busy reading “rock magazines” but still.]

Football game tomorrow.

Diary – this is not a crush!!