The Teachings of Dom Juan

Greetings and salutations to YOU!

How is everybody? I hope you’re all proceeding with careful alactricity along the well-worn path of life.

So, I’ve been somewhat irresponsible as of late. I kissed Holly the other night. She smelled of strawberries.

The people likely to read this, if any (the ONW crew) will not know who Holly is. So I will elucidate. Holly is a small girl with chestnut coloured hair and a pretty face. She’s very quiet, and I live with her (along with four others on our corridor). Nobody else spends much time with Holly, because she’s so quiet, and it’s hard to talk to her, but for whatever reason, I’ve been making quite an effort this last week to get her to come out and socialise with us, or just watch movies with me in my room or do Sudoku. We tended to sit quite close together.

Sheneen told me it was headed somewhere a bit more than friendly, but I didn’t really listen. Or I did, and said I wouldn’t do anything, but that didn’t seem to matter on Thursday night. I kissed her.

She’s shy and quiet, and honestly, I don’t think she’s kissed more than maybe one person before. She’s awkward with people - I’ve never seen her to be malicious, I think she just lacks social skills - and she knows that I’m still completely messed up over Lisa. It wasn’t right of me to kiss her. I barely know her, and she deserves to be kissed because someone’s thinking only of her, not because I’m on the rebound.

But I do like spending time with her. It’s nice, and easy.

Sheneen isn’t taking it too well. The following may be a giant mistake brought on from too much ego, and I hope it is. But I’m getting quite a big impression that Sheneen’s jealous. Little comments she makes, looks she gives, etc. They’re adding up. Especially when she talks about Holly - she keeps talking about Holly’s cleavage (which, not that it should matter, is impressive). Now, again, not that it matters, Sheneen is probably only slightly less well-endowed than Holly, but without going into specifics, from the way she talks I really get the impression that she’s jealous of me having this thing with Holly, and thinks that it’s purely because of Holly’s boobs. Probably the best example I can think of is when, after her getting the fact that me and Holly had kissed out of me, she sat on my bed with me, and said something like ‘You’re looking for intimacy after this thing with Lisa… but you’re looking for it in the wrong girl. *pause*’.

Now, I like Sheneen. She’s more ‘my type’ than Holly, honestly, because she has a personality, and personality goes a long way. But Sheneen has a boyfriend. And after all that crap with Lisa, I will not be put in that situation again. I’ve learned that lesson well enough. Hell, Sheneen’s boyfriend is visiting from today till Tuesday. I really hope I’m wrong about her intentions.

And god help me, through all this, with possibly two very attractive girls I live with fighting over me (heh, now I AM getting delusional with ego), I still wake up, think about Lisa, and can hardly bear to get out of bed. I miss her so much.

Been a while since I updated this, huh? Well, hello world.

I’ve instantly got the urge to ask how everyone is, even though this is a strictly one-way affair. Hmm.

I came back to university a little under two weeks ago. During the summer between now and the end of last term, I wrote letters to Lisa, and received letters back. Our relationship fluctuated from intense passion to cold, hurt distantness. It’s hard when you’re not sure exactly how the other person feels about you - you don’t know how to act.

She didn’t receive my last letter, apparently, which was one of me telling her I’d like to be her friend down here, but nothing more. I haven’t told her that’s what it said.

I glimpsed her in a cafeteria within a few days of arriving. I left quickly, but she texted me the next day, asking if she could see me. We spent a couple of days together, talking, going to a truly terrible gig, etc, and things were awkward and strange. By the end of Friday night, as we were walking back from the middle of the crackhead side of town, where I’d paid £12 each for us to see the worst-sounding Johnny Cash ripoff in existence, I realised two things. The first was that I loved her, and the second was that I couldn’t see her anymore.

I planned to leave my talk with her until I saw her around Wednesday or some such time, but when, on Monday morning, I saw her talking to her boyfriend, everything welled up inside me and I just wanted to get it over with. I texted her and asked her to come over, telling her I needed to talk (she never likes it when I use that phrase).

The long and short of that tale is, she came over, I told her I couldn’t keep doing this, and I couldn’t see her while she was with her boyfriend. At first she didn’t believe I meant it - she said things like ‘Oh, this again’, ‘You can’t do it, you’ve tried before’. More hurtful among them were that she couldn’t be with me properly because ‘Sometimes you’re embarassing’, and that I like being a ‘doormat for love’. When she realised I was serious, she got somewhat frantic. Among other things, she basically implied that if all it was was that she wasn’t sleeping with me, we could do that right now. She was moving to take off her clothes, but I stopped her. At the time, I hoped I’d misinterpreted her.

As she was leaving, she said it wasn’t fair that I’d had a chance to prepare what to say and she hadn’t, and she asked to see me one more time. I agreed. This culminated in her coming round a final time on Wednesday.

We talked for hours. I asked her to be strong and to leave her boyfriend to try things out with me. She said she couldn’t, because even though she didn’t love him, she couldn’t hurt him like that. Nothing I said convinced her. In the end, when I was telling her she had to go, she was literally begging me to sleep with her, saying it didn’t have to mean anything. One of the most beautiful women I’ll ever meet, throwing herself at me so much that I had to physically push her off. Saying no to that was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. But also easy in a way. I knew it was ‘wrong’. Not ‘wrong’ inherently, but wrong for me. It’s not who I am.

Then, as she was leaving the final door, she showed me where she’d cut herself, and said it was because of me, and said she’d do it tomorrow, too. I want her to care, to miss me, but I don’t want her to do that.

She also said she loved me.

Shaneen, a girl I’m living with, has been very nice - like a surrogate big sister. And my own big sister has been really cool too. But after my moment of weakness on Wednesday night after she’d gone, I had to put the tough mask back on, and now the world’s just proceeding as if everything’s okay. And it’s not okay. It’s like my own personal holocaust has occured. But there’s no mark of it, no way of telling. Sometimes I think I’m just being a drama queen about it all and that the strong feelings were never really there, because it’s not like I’m curled up in bed unable to function, I’m still taking care of myself. I hate that feeling. If I could I’d break down totally, but I can’t. I need to be at least a little tough.

For my own kind of ‘mark’ that it’s horrible and that it hurts and that it’s real and it matters, I ended up cutting last night. It wasn’t planned, just spur of the moment. I don’t plan to tell anybody - other than whoever reads this, and to be honest, I don’t really want to talk about it then, either. It’s horrible to think that Lisa feels bad enough to do that as well, and I feel bad, and yet just because of… things I can’t even describe, we can’t be together. I told her she was trapped by despair. She pretty much said I was probably right.

This is probably the last time I’ll talk about any of this. I’m getting tired of it already, and this is barely the third time I’ve said or written it. It’s still there, etched on the forefront of my heart as boldly and horribly as Lee’s name is on her chest, but I have to not talk about it and try to get on with other things, because it’s all I can do.

And this too shall pass. 

I moved back home to Leeds yesterday, for the summer vacation. I’m here for about three months. It’s already feeling like a giant waste of time, really.

 I miss Lisa so much more than I thought I would, already. I broke up with her the other day, but it didn’t really stick (we were half-naked together in my bed the next day). It’s horrible.  I hope to God I haven’t fallen in love with her. But I kind of think I have.

I’m annoying all my friends (though they’re far too polite to say so) with my ruminations on my quondam relationship with Lisa. So I’m taking the emoness here, where it can slowly degrade away like the dreams of an investment banker.

 For those of you who don’t know, Lisa is the alias (in so much as it’s her name) of a girl on my course. We like each other. But she has a boyfriend. She told me the other night that she felt guilty about cheating on her boyfriend with me, and ended things. There are obvious cracks in her relationship with her boyfriend (the fact that she’s been cheating on him with me is a subtle clue), but she won’t leave him for me.

Everything’s telling me the smart thing to do would be to forget it and move on, but for some reason, this girl’s special to me. So for now I am waiting and seeing and not-revising for my exams and most likely failing.

Exam time is a bad time for romantic intrigue.

So this is my new blog!

I’ll learn how to properly edit this thing tomorrow, and make it look spiffy. Until then, I’ll make a brief post about something I learned just recently - they’re releasing Dr. Jack Kevorkian from prison. About damn time! If somebody is in agonising pain and wants to die, and they are in a clear state of mind, it’s not murder to help them out, it’s an act of compassion.

 Also I had to edit that paragraph like four times for spelling mistakes. I used to be a perfect speller. I must be the only person whose spelling has gotten worse since coming to university.

 More tomorrow.