Dancing in ecstasy to Ewok music
Well, I just got off the phone to my girlfriend of 1 week. And you know what? It's crazy, but she's still my girlfriend. I was convinced I was going to get dumped. However, I was resolved to have my corpse facing the enemy, as it were. Grim determination was on my face, my fingers were on the buttons of the phone...
But to make any sense of it all I had to go back, back to 4 months ago (Can anyone smell Max Payne in the air?) when I was holidaying in an Asian commune with my best friend Ken. Yes, it's a long story. Yes, it could possibly be considered interesting. But that's not the point. The point is I feel a need to write something, anything, to get across my delight. Anyway, 4 months ago.
There was this girl. Yeah, that's right. I said girl. Her name was Krista and I'd been flirting on and off with her for, well, about a month. I didn't really like her, I was just bored with celibacy. Annnnnnnyway, the first time I met her she was at the movies with an incredibly good looking girlfriend of hers (sadly, not in the bisexual sense) called McAra. Wow. She was spec-tac-ular. For all of you fans of American Beauty, think of when Lester first met Angela at the Basketball game, only less sexual. For all of you Lord of the Rings fans, think of when Grima Wormtongue was describing Eowyn, except less creepily pedophillic. It's not a word, I hear you say? Fuck you. Too happy for that.
Annnnnyway, I tried a lot of things to get McAra to notice me. I fell down stairs, I picked up the air hockey puck when it was needed, and I was an all around silent nice guy. Strangely enough, we fell out of contact (that's not entirely true, seeing as I didn't speak one word to her while we were there) for quite a number of months. Untill 4 months ago...
You may not be aware of this, but there are these great little programs called Instant Messangers which I was using to talk to all the people back home from my little Asian commune. So, I get to talking with Krista and we recall with fondness that magical day at the movies.
"Do you remember McAra?" she asks me. Do I... Do I remember McAra? OF COURSE I REMEMBER MCARA! "Do you want her email?" I want it more than I want a Liv Tyler and Natalie Portman fanboy sandwich. I get the email. I talk to her. I swoon. Can guys swoon? I swooned. We hit it off. We connected on so many levels. We talked about God for an hour once, for all the good it did. The intensity of our conversation was amazing. I knew it as well as I know that I'm not a very intelligent person: I was in like. I'm not THAT unintelligent as to believe I was in love. For christ's sake, I'm only 15 and I'd just "met" her, in a weird, online, nerdy sort of fashion. We have the same taste in music, movies, etc, etc. All the cliches that for once were coming true. I start talking about my eagerness to see the sequel to Analyse This, Analyse That.
Guess what? She did, too. And you know what? I asked her out from more than 3000 kilometers away.
Guess what? She said yes.
Fast forward to two weeks later. I'd been talking to her continuously throughout my stay and I was really, really excited about our date. I bought her a gift from the Sydney Markets (Ok, I admit, my so-called Asian commune was my friend's house in Sydney), a little carved wooden horse. I gave it to her, and my first words to her in real life were nothing short of Casanova-esque genius.
"Sorry," I fumbled. "My pockets are a bit tight." After much struggling the horse was free. She called it Arod. We saw the movie. I used the old yawn-arm-around-the-girl trick, evoking much humour. We went for walkies through the CBD, and went back to my place. Nothing happened. She caught a bus, and that was that. There would be no more dates.
Of course, I didn't know it yet.
We were both very eager. Soon, I was going to ask her out. But, alas, this time, it wasn't meant to be. Another guy, who she had been romancing before me, came along, and I was thrust to the back of the stage, and forced to wait in the wings. I asked her out. She said no. This guy, whom we'll call Mr Silly, asked her out, soon after. She said yes.
It was a pretty rough period for me. I played a lot of Gamecube to mask my unhappiness and I moped around the neighbourhood, occasionally slinking into the wilderness for day-long periods of solitude.
To make a long story short, things with Mr Silly didn't work out. I spoke to her regulary on the phone while she was still going out with him and we developed a really, really solid friendship. Then one night, we were both in bed, conversing via-telephone when she says something I didn't quite catch. She won't repeat it, but I have a gut feeling what it was: She likes me, too (I forgot to mention, I still liked her a lot at this point, despite Mr Silly).
2 weeks later, she confirms it. 2 weeks after that, she breaks up with Mr Silly. And 2 weeks after that, which would be this time last week, I asked her out.
Guess what? She said yes.
It would have to be one of the highlights of my life so far. I danced dances of the gods, I sung fair songs of happiness, all was good.
She's a rower, which entails sitting on your ass, pulling sticks and going backwards, but it's really a lot more intense than it sounds. The dedication required of rowers is astounding, and they all meet the challenge exceedingly well. The Head of the River is a wonderful day: all the schools in my state get together at the best rowing lake in the world for a day's rowing. For the first time in my life, I went. Because of McAra. I loved it. I didn't see her much, she was competing for the better part of the day. She won a lot. That was cool.
I then saw her again 2 days ago. We went for a walk in the park, I held her hand on the way. When we got to the playground though, something was wrong. We sat on the swings, and talked. But it was shallow talk. We couldn't connect. We went over to the playhouse, but she wouldn't sit next to me. We went over to a bench. I sat on the end, making it very obvious that she was meant to sit next to me.
She stood.
I was worried beyond all worry. I was shitscared, I honestly thought on the way home I would lose her. I couldn't help but feel sad that I would lose this girl, whom I liked above all others. I came home, and, distraught, I tell her friend what happened. Her friend, that night, calls her up.
Through an exchange of mobile phone messages, I gather that McAra is very confused. Hell, they weren't the clearest text messages and I was struggling to get the gist of it all, but that was it. I knew I'd lost her now. No hope remained in my heart and I was ready to give it all away.
But I was resolved to have my corpse facing the enemy.
I rang her tonight. At 7:30. Her family are just about to have dinner, and her mother, who I met at this rowing meet, informs me very politely that McAra will call me back. Fast forward half an hour. I am pacing madly about the house, screaming at the phone to ring. I don't think I've ever been that stressed, and I doubt I will be for a long time. She rings.
Well, we talked for about 15 minutes before she had to go. She didn't want to break up with me. She was having trouble opening up to me, and I am willing to wait as long as it takes to make it work. So, as I gather, is she.
I got off the phone, whacked on the Ewok celebration music from Return of the Jedi and danced like a bitch. I'm not a big dancer. But hey, just once. It's not as if anyone was looking. That was one of the happiest moments of my life.
It might seem stupid to you, the reader, whoever you are. Simple, even. But sometimes the simplest things can bring the most happiness. So much emphasis gets put on the importance of the begining, the importance of the end. I think people should concentrate more on the middle. After all, that's what makes the memories.
I won't forget this.