Disjointed? Yes.

Interesting? Perhaps.

I don't write for you, I write for myself.

Just FYI.

Sometimes I get in a really good mood, and I'll start thinking that I have a crush. I love crushes. They're so fun for so many reasons. That feeling of newness: new excitement, new possibilities...newness is always an interesting feeling.

Maybe it's the false sense of hope that I enjoy the most. Either way, crushes occupy time, and I could certainly use a few interruptions.

For some reason, I have this aversion to laziness. I hate being lazy. I always get this feeling of "What else could I be doing besides laying on the couch? There's so much going on outside, or somewhere else, and YOU'RE MISSING OUT! Hurry!"

That feeling really annoys me. Why can't I lay in bed for an insane amount of time without feeling like I should be going somewhere, doing something, or seeing somebody? I blame my Mother. I don't blame her too much, since, afterall, she's my biggest fan. But for my entire life, my Mom got out of bed and started her day at 5am. Seriously, 5:04am at the latest. My Mom does more in a day than I do in a week.

So, while my Mom is saving the world on Saturday mornings, I'd be laying in bed waiting for Aladdin to come on TV. This was about 15 years ago, but there's a very good chance that this could reoccur on any Saturday morning, both present and future. Anyway, as soon as I heard the theme song "Arabian Niiiiiiiights, like Arabian Daaaaays," I'd instantly fall back asleep. I just needed to hear the jingle to know that everything was okay, and it was safe to sleep. I used to do the same thing on Sunday nights, but with Baywatch. "I'lllllll be ready" put me to sleep instantaneously. It wasn't like I fell asleep out of boredom, it was just the peace of knowing that it was safe to fall asleep at any point in the next half hour. Like comfort food, these were comfort jingles.

I was physically incapable of falling asleep during a TV show that I did not like. If I heard the M*A*S*H jingle come on, it's like I couldn't change the channel quick enough. I'd never be able to fall asleep during that. I don't care how long that show stayed on air--it was stupid.

I can remember one Christmas, my whole family was going to travel to Indiana to spend the holiday with my Grandma, Grandpa, and Aunt Sandy. This presented a problem though. I felt like I was abandoning my stuffed animals during a very important time. I mean, how would I feel if I had to spend Christmas in the closet? Oh wait...

Anyway, I wouldn't like that at all.

So I gathered up alllllll of my stuffed animals. We're talking about A LOT of stuffed animals. I had a thing for them because, at that point in my life, I wanted to work at a zoo therefore housing 75 animals of all sorts and sizes was a prerequisite to my future. Although, I sometimes had a problem with my Popple. I was always faced with the uncertainty of "What animal are you supposed to be?!" I always felt like my Popple was so alone amid the lions, tigers, and bears...or at least scared for his life. Therefore I positioned them on seperate sides of the bed. I think he felt more at ease with the Gloworms. Anyway, I literally positioned all of my stuffed animals in an upright and alert position on my bed. I wanted them to share the holiday together, since I couldn't be there. How weird. The only reason I thought about this was because during my last trip home, I went up to the attic to look for some Christmas lights. During my search I ran across some old friends sitting in a box haphazardly. This didn't sit right with me, so I gave them a quick hello and positioned them tightly together in the box so that they could keep warm up in that cold, cold attic.

It's fun revisiting your childhood. Even when you think you're all grown up, you can hear or see something that takes you back to where you started. I know for a fact that if I saw Mrs. Jacobson (my 5th grade teacher) tonight, I'd still have a HUGE crush on her, even though she's so not my type. At all.

I'd probably still ask her how to pronounce a word from a story I was reading during library time, even though I knew how to pronounce, spell, and define every word in the book.

How do you end the constant replay? How do you let yourself accept the fact that it's over...for good? How do you move on?

How?

I wish I knew because I can't seem to do it. Just get over it...like it's that easy. I can't stop replaying the moments. Or should I say THE moment. The moment I knew. The moment I knew that goodbye was inevitable and that their would be no more hello's.

We were great talkers. We could talk for hours on end, mostly about nothing, but it meant everything. Our words were everything, it's all we had. Then came our time together. At first it was weird. It was like I had to prove myself, I had to show you the reasons why you should love me forever. That's so sad.

But we seemed to click. Right? Or was that just me?

Shit. That was totally just me.

So, maybe we didn't click. I met your friends. They loved me. I think. I tried really hard to fit into your life, or atleast I tried to make it a seamless transition. This was accomplished by swallowing all of my fears in order to make it work. Now that I think about it, how did I do it? I was so scared, but I couldn't let you know that...let alone SEE it. My heart is always worn on my sleeve, but I sometimes roll them up.

I didn't sleep much that night. You did though. You slept next to me, without stirring, while I pondered our existance. Why was I even there? Granted I didn't want to be sleeping anywhere else but beside you, but I wonder, did it mean the same to you?...as it did to me?

I couldn't sense it, if it did. I eventually fell asleep. I had a dream--you were in it. I woke up 2 hours after I had fallen asleep. It was 4:46.

I kept dreaming the same dream that entire night. It started and stopped, started and stopped. But it was always the same. And you were always in it. People dream when they want more out of life. Sometimes a dream is the only chance we get to find what we're looking for. Sometimes a dream is the only way we get what we want. Sometimes a dream is the only time our feelings feel real. Sometimes a dream is as close as we get. That dream was just a dream, and it was all I had.

At 4:46 you were snoring.

That morning when I woke up, the dream was over.
And so were we.

Wait, did I already tell you that story before? Oh you hadn't heard? Yeah, that's just a small part of my life that's been on the backburner...simmering.

Of course you didn't know. No one seems to know. I have two older brothers -- Scott & Michael. They're 10+ years older than my sister, Kelly, and myself. For my parents, it was kind of like growing up with two sets of children. They raised the two boys upon the flowing countrysides of Illinois, literally in the middle of a cornfield. Nine years later, out comes the first girl. Then me. And here we are. I'm the baby and the most special, of course. People always assume it's just us two. For all of my life it's been Kelly and Ryan. Don't forget about the first two. They're important.

I don't know why but it just tastes so good. Mom always reached on tip toes for the brown box on the highest shelf in the middle cupboard, just above the marshmallows and popcorn kernels. She made me pudding because she knew I loved it. Now, Jello Pudding Cups always make my day better. For whatever reason. I just love it. Once from a box, now from a cup.

Do you still think about me? I still think about you. All of the time.

If I'm running late, I've been known for skipping the entire event. For some reason, I'd rather be seen as absent than late. I told her I didn't come because I was in the hospital. That was a lie. I didn't come because I was late. Afterwards, she came to the hospital to visit me. They couldn't find my name on the ER list. I wasn't there, obviously. Even though I lied, I learned that shrewd, mean woman who seemingly hated me...cared enough to make sure I was okay.

I didn't feel a thing, although I did see a light. My best friend Donna and I are home alone at my town-house in Galva, Illinois. Meterologist James Zahara is on the TV saying a tornado is coming and to hide in your bathtub. Donna and I run into the basement instead and hide underneath the ping pong table. I used to be so good at ping pong, but maybe my Dad was just letting me be good. I don't know. I always kicked Donna's ass, though. So, we're hiding, hoping something cool happens. And it did. A pole comes smashing through the basement window, powerlines still attached. It stretches past the ping pong table and the live wires dance happily, with one asking me to join. They clung to my body, even though I tried to get away. Too slow. Electrocuted on the basement floor. Two weeks later I woke up in a hospital bed, Mom was watching One Life to Live beside me. Little did she know I had two.

"Actually, we have another one in the back, he's kind of rowdy though." From the moment I touched him, I knew.

So, I'm cruising around Davenport, handing out resumes left and right. I stopped at the TV news offices, stopped at a couple of newspaper places. Stopped at the mall. I was hungry from all that desperation. Popped into A&F and tried on a pair of jeans. The more holes the better I thought. Out pops this quirky, funky girl. "Hey, have you ever thought about a job with A&F" she says to me. "Um, no, but here's my resume." 20 laps around the mall later on a pop-up interview, I'm hired. "Move to Iowa City, it has the best store around." she popped out of the door to say as I walked away. Flash forward a year - little did I know it contained some nasty, evil people. A few good ones, though too. I remember having a hicky on my very first day. I wore a zip-up sweater to conceal it. It was August. I popped the collar. I know, I'm ashamed. So poppy. Ay, papi.

"It's seriously coming down hard, I hate walking in the rain..." I said, standing under the brick building overhang. "C'mon, let's just go." he shot back with a smile.

I remember sitting at my desk in my comfy little dorm room, fixing, primping...making it perfect, thesaurus at my side. I walked to class without a shred of hope, "She'll hate it." I thought. I read it aloud, with the six of us around the table, critiquing. "Ryan Sumner, you ARE a writer" she said. Knowing the kind of person she was, and how much I feared her, she changed my life with those very words.

Can I ask you a question? Can I kiss you?

I left her outside. I was cold, wet, and miserable...I had to go in. She stayed behind. I took off my snowsuit, took off my boots and gloves and placed them next to the smoldering wood embers within the fireplace. My parents went outside, leaving me alone with my brothers who let me watch a scary cartoon -- something where Donald Duck had pointy teeth and a vengeance. I cried under my sheets for my sister, and because Donald was acting so different. Where had she gone? In my mind, all I can remember is them finding her outside, alone. I cried for her. I didn't mean to leave. I don't even know if she knows it happened. I don't even know if it happened. It still hurts, though.

Why did I stay in the backseat like that? He got out, she got out. I stayed in. Was it weird for you, too? Probably. I came off cold. I didn't mean to. Actually, I really didn't mean to. Things didn't go as I hoped they would. I think it was my fault. I carry that guilt around to this very day. That was a long plane ride home.

"Look, Bennett -- 'All About Beans!'" it read. 10 books, 1 g-string, and 3 beers later, it was the best after hours I had been to.

Since I was too young to remember, she told me the story. However, my brothers weren't too young, and they remembered all too well. She cried as she remembered. It was the worst day of her life. It was the worst feeling of her life. "He would have killed us all. He wrote it down on his suicide note. He wanted us dead." She hid us kids in the coat closet at the bottom of the stairs and stood in front of the door, the phone to her ear waiting for my Dad to pick up. "Get here now, he's trying to get in!" She remembers screaming...my Dad remembered hearing. He came just in time. 2 shots later, we were safe.

I sat on that beach, so alone, but the blue was so amazing.

I hope my life never ends. So interesting, so far.