Showing posts with label despair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label despair. Show all posts

14.2.13

First Love


SEVEN YEARS AGO I began an interesting writing project which somewhat chronicled my (religiously restrained) pursuits in love from the age of ten. Clearly it was a work of humour, some chapters were girls names, another chapter entitled 'It wasn't Pinnochio's nose that grew...' which documented adolescent sexual frustrations expressed via boyhood campfire conversations about girls. I continued writing up to the age of seventeen and eventually abandoned the project after deciding that the years that followed were shaping into a long winded tragedy with dwindling amounts of humour. 

Love changes with age. Some relationships seem like vague recollections in dreams or nightmares, some like lives in parallel universes. The past can be stranger than fiction when you look at the journey. Maybe it is a sign of success if you can look back on things that way?

I wanted to write something meaningful for Valentine's day but I thought it would be more important to laugh.

An excerpt from an earlier chapter in my abandoned project. My first love ;

CASSIE

Cassie was my first ever girlfriend.  I was 11 and at Intermediate School.  I had liked her for a while and she liked me also.  She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and her nose was a little bit pointy but that was alright, she was still pretty.  One day in the playground her friend Kelly asked me out on behalf of Cassie and I paused to think about it before replying with ‘yes’.  (I paused because I did not want to seem over eager).  Cassie was waiting across the other side of the playground.  As soon as I said ‘yes', Kelly ran over to Cassie to inform her of my answer.  I watched in the distance as she did this.  They both looked ecstatic and held hands, nodded their heads, and jumped up and down in excitement. 

Having a girlfriend was a new thing for me and I wasn’t sure what it entailed.  I figured we’d hang out, hold hands and stuff, and maybe kiss but french kissing a girl kind of grossed me out. 
In the classroom Cassie asked if I wanted to move my desk into her group.  My teacher Mr Thomson let us sit in whatever desk arrangements we liked.  I agreed but said that I wanted my friends Matthew and Andrew to come with me.  Cassie and Kelly consulted each other about this arrangement and they accepted.
So there we were. Me, Cassie, Kelly, Matthew and Andrew, all sitting in a group.  It was a different group dynamic sitting with girls. We would get in more trouble because the girls would talk when Mr Thomson was talking, and they would draw in our workbooks.  One day Matthew told me that it was pissing him off and Andrew agreed so they moved out. I felt quite abandoned.

I told my parents that I had a girlfriend.  I don’t know why I did this.  Maybe it was because I was proud I had got one.  I did not know it would cause such commotion.  Mum was outraged and said I was far too young to have one, and that it was bad news.  She feared that a girl would just be trouble and she wanted me to break it off.  I, of course was outraged by this and said that it was not fair and it was my life and that it wasn’t that bad.  I was quite angry.  Mum looked at dad for support.  I don’t think dad liked the idea of me having a girlfriend either but he didn’t say much.  He could tell that I was angry with mum for her reaction.  In the end  I heard dad say to Mum, “He’s only 11, don’t worry”.  I then heard Mum say “But this will just be the start, he’s too young…”

Cassie would call me on the telephone.  I learnt that girls like talking.  They like talking a lot. We would talk for up to an hour.  Sometimes Cassie would ring me for no reason, it was just something to do.  She would ring up and say ‘Hi’ and then ask me what I was doing. 

“Watching T.V” I would say. 

“Same” she would reply. 

“Cool” I would say. 

“Cool" she would say.  “What are you watching?” 

“The Simpsons” I replied. 

“Same.  Do you think Clarence from school looks like Milhouse?” 

“Um… yeah kind of.” I said.

She laughed.  “Four eyes (Clarence) is such a geek.”

Basically Cassie would ring me up and we would occupy the phone and talk about nothing.  It was disrupting my homework.  Mum would look at me as if to remind me of this fact when I was on the phone and it made me feel bad.  I would try to get off the phone by telling Cassie that I had to go.  “No you don’t” Cassie would say and she would insist on us talking.  I would give in.  I am pathetic and weak.

I started having to get my homework done early so it was done before Cassie would ring to make mum happy.

It was hard work having a girlfriend.  They were quite needy and demanding.  Sometimes I wondered why I bothered but at the same time Cassie gave me a buzz.  I couldn’t describe it, it was like a flutter of the heart or adrenaline or something, the feeling that there was someone special in your life that shared a special part of you that no one else could.  This is what led me to sew ‘Ken Cassie Ken Cassie Ken Cassie’ all over the pencil case I was making in my clothing and textiles class at school.  It seemed like the in thing to do.  My friend Elliot had a girlfriend Joanna.  They had been together about the same time as me and Cassie.  On their respective pencil cases they wrote ‘Elliot and Joanna 4 eva’.  I showed Cassie my pencil case.  I think she was quite flattered.  I scored brownie points.  We held hands on the way back from class that day.

There were a lot of phone calls, drawing in each others exercise books, and some hand holding but me and Cassie had still not kissed.  I think Elliot and Joanna were in the same boat.  One overcast lunch time Kelly, Cassie’s friend decided that we should go over to the far side of the field where it was secluded and play dare.  Kelly dragged me and Cassie and also Elliot and Joanna.  I started to get that buzz – my heart began to flutter.  When we got there Kelly said that Cassie and I needed to kiss and so did Elliot and Joanna.  We all looked hesitant and embarrassed by being put on the spot like that.  There was a period of silence but then Kelly said “come on, who’s going to kiss first?”.  This made it a competition and I sensed shame for the couple that lost.  I looked at Elliot and Joanna who were sheepishly looking each other in the eyes, to me it was a sign that they were both developing traction in the whole procedure.  This made me look at Cassie.  I felt nervous and uncomfortable and so did Elliot.  We looked at each other and then at our girlfriends and as Elliot leant in to kiss Joanna, so I did to Cassie.  One quick peck on the lips.  It was over in a flash.

The love that Cassie and I shared began to grow old in the days that ensued.  Perhaps it was my fear of the big sloppy.  I watched older boys do it to their girlfriends at the bus stop.  I admired them.  I was just chicken.  One day in the playground Kelly came up to me and stated “You’re dumped.  From Cassie” and then ran away.  Our love had ended pretty much exactly the way it began - via personal message service informing me of my plight. This was my first experience of heart ache. I was dumped for another boy, Michael, who looked like a monkey.


17.9.12

On A Bad Day


When I was about ten years old I remember seeing a teenager in Wellington wearing a black shirt with the print "TOTAL FUCKING DARKNESS." I was riding in the back seat of a taxi that day with my dad and my aunt and uncle and as we stopped at a set of lights the teenager crossed the road the taxi driver shook his head while reading the contents of the teenager's shirt aloud. He laughed sardonically and as he did so I remember my adult compatriots taking notice and sharing rather sardonic chuckles themselves. What would that kid know about TOTAL FUCKING DARKNESS?

Was it a slow download speed on Napster? Was it the vexatious Wellington wind? Was it being short a bus fare by a few cents? Was it the lack of attention paid to him by a female cashier at Burger King?

Maybe it was all those things. Maybe it was more. I guess it doesn't matter when it comes to TOTAL FUCKING DARKNESS because perception is subjective. It's psychological. It's irrational. But the feeling may be very real.

On a bad day I'm experiencing TOTAL FUCKING DARKNESS.

I'm doomed on such days. There is no hope, no light. There is no promise. And although I pretty much never swear and even seldom do it in my head I resort to profanity and it seems the only apt adjective to describe anything because it is all fucked. FUCKED. Fucking fucked.

FUCKED.

I'm feeling so low on these days which is strange for me as I like to think I'm the sort of person that leaves their front door each day in search of hope.

I feel like I've been abandoned. Although I have lots of friends and family it doesn't mean anything. I am alone even if I am not. I am abandoned even if I am surrounded. People are talking but no one is listening. Suggestions are sugar coated but they hold no pertinence. Even I know that I am being an idiot for the way I am feeling but I can't help it. I have already tried to feel otherwise. Ive already told myself that I am being irrational. But none of this matters because the feeling is so real. I am utterly empty. There is a huge void inside. I'm drowning in a sea of people. I'm falling apart in a public space. I'm silently crying out for help, for anything, something. Something that holds it all together. Something that makes sense. Something that tells me that there is purpose, a plan, meaning. That hope and love are real, not just experiences. That they have a source and it is absolute and unconditional. That love is. That love wants. That love will find me.

I don't nor ever will own a shirt that says TOTAL FUCKING DARKNESS but I feel like I've worn it before. It was on a bad day. Possibly my worst day.

It was also in Wellington. I played indoor cricket without feeling. I drove home with no urgency or desire and then lay in bed wanting to be swallowed by it never to resurface. But the feelings would not go away. I felt tormented. I wanted it to stop. I wanted to bring it to an end.

It was a work night and at 1:30AM I decided to get in my car and drive up one of the hills overlooking Wellington city in the rain. I got out of the car and stepped out into the moonless wintery night. The clouds hung low and remember fumbling my way up an overgrown path. I love mountains because they give me clarity of vision. They put things in perspective for me but on this night I felt devoid of my natural senses. When I could see the specks of city lights below me through the fog I wondered what the point in all of it was. Who really made a difference to the world? I just saw it as one big hopeless fucked up mess. I had an idea that I wanted to scream when I reached the hilly outcrop but I couldn't even manage that. My breathing started to go and I got down on my knees failing to gain any form of composure. What was happening to me? I had no idea. "Oh fuck" I remember uttering to myself. I started freaking out. I was scared. All I felt was darkness and I was at the mercy of it, like it was going to consume me. Oh, God, Oh God, please help I remember voicing in my mind over and over again and eventually my breathing started to slow back to a normal rhythm and it calmed me. I felt as though I was covered in a veil of darkness but now I started to see a pin prick of light. It was faint, tiny, minute but it disturbed the darkness and I clung to it.

'This is what hell is' I was told that night. It is not fiery flames. It is darkness and separation. Devoid of hope.

You must know this. It is a reality for many people.

People need hope. They need love. They need truth.

Light starts in a dark place.









"The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it."