{"id":3368,"date":"2005-07-15T07:23:55","date_gmt":"2005-07-15T11:23:55","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=3368"},"modified":"2022-10-09T17:57:31","modified_gmt":"2022-10-09T21:57:31","slug":"diary-friday-57","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=3368","title":{"rendered":"Diary Friday"},"content":{"rendered":"

My need for self-mortification knows no bounds. I read this entry and just WINCED at what I sound like … I sound like I’m having a manic episode. But I must post it. Also – Keith M. makes a cameo. Which just makes me LAUGH now in light of the reunion and this <\/a>and all.<\/p>\n

But it’s the BEGINNING of the entry that is truly embarrassing. Therefore: I know I must post it.<\/p>\n

I’m a junior in high school here, but I sound like I’m 12. My junior year was the year I was so in love with a guy named Dave that every entry is filled with him. Of course, nothing ever HAPPENED with Dave, but that didn’t stop me from writing about EVERY. INTERACTION. WE. HAD. In excruciating detail.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

DECEMBER<\/h3>\n

Oh, the weirdest thing just happened to me! [Sheila, please don’t share it. Oh God … you’re gonna share it, aren’t you?<\/i>] Isn’t it wonderful when life looks so humdrum and a tiny little thing pops up to take away the humdrum-ness?<\/p>\n

Just now – I was in my room alone working on a new story I just started, listening to the radio. Today was a good day. I wasn’t depressed or anything, and Freeze Frame came on the radio. [HAHAHAHA<\/i>] Music is my savior. No matter what kind. It uplifts me. [But I thought you just said you weren’t depressed??<\/i>] I love<\/u> music. It does something to me. It revitalizes me. (Ooh!) [Uhm – okay, I don’t know what that “ooh” is about.<\/i>] Anyway, an old wave of happiness flooded over me, remembering when I loved<\/u> that song and Mere and I made up a dance to it. [Mere, I am sure you can see those dance steps right now. It SWEPT THE SCHOOL!<\/i>] So I leaped to my feet, turned up the volume, and started bounding around dancing. I love dancing – I feel so happy and uninhibited when I dance. I went wild, like I usually do at dances. [Yes, but Sheila, did you press your sweaty Irish head up against the tiles?<\/i>] I’m glad no one was watching me though because I went berserk. I did the little dance, I really got into it. I’m cool! [Uhm … ya are?<\/i>]<\/p>\n

Suddenly I looked at myself in the full-length mirror. My cheeks were all flushed. I was smiling. I looked okay in a very athletic out-of-breath way, that fun song was in my ears – I felt energy fizzing on all my nerve endings. I had nothing<\/u> to do with the grin spread across my face. I was just lit up inside and it came out in a smile.<\/p>\n

Then<\/u> – [Oh God, there’s not more is there?<\/i>] I felt this surge<\/u> inside – really – that’s the word. It felt like a little cherry tomato exploded inside me. I felt no<\/u> more doubts. I saw myself (well, not really saw<\/u> – it wasn’t like these visions slowly drifted past me – they all assaulted me at once, making it all the better) – I saw myself going with Dave to the movies, sitting at Ricky’s with him, [RICKYS! HAHAHAHAHA<\/i>] – kissing<\/u> him – dancing with him – talking with him – It was wonderful<\/u>. Just suddenly – for one brief flash – I felt: Of course<\/u> something’s going to happen. Of course! Ecstasy flew through my brain and I felt like leaping and screaming and laughing<\/u>!!! [Wow. This is really sad. Nothing did end up happening and I spent the entire next summer staggering around in tears because he turned me down to go to the Junior Prom. God. It sucked, really.<\/i>] But it paralyzed me in a way. I just stared at my reflection. The next minute, that feeling – if that’s a word for it – was gone – but I still feel all wiggly inside. I wish I could say in here: Of course<\/u> it’ll work out! I want it more than I have ever wanted anything<\/u>!!!! [Oh, sweet girl. Sorry. Heartbreak’s comin’ at ya. Hunker down.<\/i>]<\/p>\n

Yesterday in Chemistry, we saw a filmstrip, and Keith ran the projector. So he pulled a desk up right next to mine. I’m not in love with him, but I do find him very attractive, and he is such a nice and real person<\/u>. I wish I could get to know him better, like we used to know each other when we were kids. Anyway, the room was dark and the narrator was droning on and whenever the beep beeped [uhm you might want to re-word that<\/i>], Keith would turn the knob. I was just sitting there, taking notes like a good doobie, and I happened to glance at Keith, and I happened to look at his hands. Very nice hands. Big, with long rough-looking fingers – looking as though they were sculpted out of wood, just casually curled around the projector. Sometimes just slightly moving, not for any good reason – or reaching up to scratch his chest. Then – to my shock – I suddenly felt like reaching over and taking his hand in mine – feel his fingers gently squeeze mine. I had to quickly look back up at the screen to keep myself from doing just that. I didn’t concentrate on the film AT ALL after that, but you know what I think? I think holding hands is about the most romantic thing of all. Of course, I’ve never done it. I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING. But I think that holding hands might even be nicer than a kiss. Of course, if I am ever kissed, I will probably think differently, but holding hands … Oh God, its too romantic to talk about.<\/p>\n

Of course, next in French, I glanced back at Dave’s hands. Talk about big hands! They were beautiful – with ragged bitten nails. [hahahahaha Yeah, Sheila, they sound really “beautiful”. Love is blind.<\/i>] He bites his nails too. A cut on one of his knuckles. Rounded blunt fingertips. I couldn’t get the vision of us strolling along, with our hands clasped, out of my mind. I want to hold hands with him.<\/p>\n

You know what? It’s just occurred to me that it must look to you as if this whole relationship is in my brain. [Er … yeah. That is what it looks like<\/i>] But it’s not. It’s not like the thing with JW. I admired JW from afar and tricked myself into believing that he cared for me just as much as I loved him. HOW could I have been so STUPID??? Why didn’t I see? We must have had 6 conversations in all – I had fantasies of our romance, but it was all so illogical. He was so far<\/u> from me. But David<\/u> – suddenly this year – there is a friendship growing that wasn’t there before. [This is not a lie. We were friends.<\/i>] And this<\/u> time – I don’t lie on my bed dreaming of a sudden dalliance. [Dalliance? What is this – Les Liaisons Dangereuses?<\/i>] I think about our real-life happenings which is so<\/u> much more satisfactory. Me asking him to dance, us in Project Adventure – him talking to me – and just thinking about him<\/u> — DAVE – who he is, what he’s like – what he thinks about – if he ever thinks of me.<\/p>\n

It’s impossible not<\/u> to imagine us going out and what it would be like and how wonderful and fascinating it would be, but Diary – oh forgive my awful forwardness – I think it could work! [I love that I am apologizing TO MY JOURNAL for my “awful forwardness”. It’s so Victorian of me. I was a Gibson Girl, even then.<\/i>] I think it honestly is in my grasp.<\/p>\n

Isn’t that wonderful?<\/p>\n

I don’t know how to go about “going for it” – but if nothing happens naturally – I’m gonna find a way. [Bummer, man. Headin’ for a fall … a big fall …<\/i>]<\/p>\n

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My need for self-mortification knows no bounds. I read this entry and just WINCED at what I sound like … I sound like I’m having a manic episode. But I must post it. Also – Keith M. makes a cameo. … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[5],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3368"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3368"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3368\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":178568,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3368\/revisions\/178568"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3368"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3368"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3368"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}