Chapter 4
Dear Journal,
I can barely believe I am doing this. In less time then I care to think about I am supposed to pick up Dawn and drive to Eric’s house. I am not looking forward to this in the slightest. I’d rather die. Really though, any pain I am feeling right now is my own fault. I had a lot of chances to tell Dawn how I felt and I didn’t. I know she wouldn’t have returned my feelings, but at least she wouldn’t have asked me to double date with her.
It just seems funny that she started out dancing with me. She started the evening in my arms. If only I’d said something while we were dancing. It was the perfect opportunity to say “Dawn, I love you” and I let it slip through my fingers like so much sand through an hourglass. If I’d told her then she would’ve been in too much shock to have spoken to Eric, and then I wouldn’t have to go on this date tonight. She wants me to critique him. I suppose I could tell her I think he’s just like David, that I think he’s a huge jackass who doesn’t deserve to lick the ground she walks on, but why should I keep her from being happy if he is really and truly a nice guy? She deserves to be happy. She deserves it more than anyone I know. She’s been through so much, and has never been in a good relationship. If this turns out to be true love who am I to get in the way? I’m no one. If she and I were meant to be it would’ve happened already.
I wish she hadn’t mentioned Nikki. Since she spoke her name I can’t get her out of my head. I keep imagining the night I saw her at the park kissing another guy. Standing there and watching them, paralyzed, not knowing what to say. I just walked over to them and yanked them apart and ripped the chain I’d given her from her neck, and threw it to the ground. There were no words for what I wanted to say. I ran to Dawn then, in more pain than I ever imagined possible. And she was there for me. Through all that, and through all that paternity shit.
God I love her so much. I’d do anything to get out of this date tonight. Maybe I should crash the car on the way to her house. Get into a really good bloody accident so that I don’t have to be there. I know, that’s morbid as hell, but I need to get out of this. Maybe if I had a spine I wouldn’t need to wreck the car…I just can’t go through with this though. It’s worse then dying by drowning in quicksand…Dying by having your heart slowly torn into pieces.
I wonder if I should try to throw up before I go. I haven’t eaten, so there isn’t anything to throw up, but I always feel more in control afterwards, and that is just what I need now. I need some control. Maybe I should just throw up on Eric. That would end the date quick enough.
I’m going to go now. If I have strength enough to write, I’ll tell you how miserable it was when I get home.
Taylor
Taylor tucked his small cloth covered journal into the space between his mattress and the bed frame and wished he could tuck himself in there as well. He wondered what his mystery date was going to be like. She couldn’t be as smart as Dawn. Or as funny as Dawn. Or as pretty as Dawn. Taylor didn’t even know her name, but really it didn’t matter. She could be Jennifer Aniston for all he cared, Dawn would still be there with Eric.
Taylor arrived at Dawn’s house before he even realized he’d gotten into the car. He laid his head on the steering wheel and made a silent prayer for strength. He just needed to get through this date. Five hours of walking, talking, unconsciousness was all he required. When he lifted his head he saw Dawn come out of the house. She was wearing a beautiful violet blouse and a black skirt and had her hair simply held back by a beaded, violet, headband. She smiled and waved to him and his heart skipped a beat before falling in his chest and he wondered again why he was putting himself through this. Why didn’t he just tell her that he loved her? Say it now, and end this madness forever. She opened the car door and the scene became like a movie in slow motion.
“Dawn I….”
She stared at him, “You what?”
“I…” he paused, “I think I forgot my wallet, so I have to stop at my house for a minute.”
“Sure Taylor.”
He couldn’t believe that he’d said that. He knew he was nothing, but a coward. She deserved better then that. She deserved someone who had the courage to come over and talk to her and ask her to dance, like Eric had. Taylor loved her, but he didn’t have the courage to love her. To treat her as she ought to be treated, or to love her with that same intensity, at least outwardly. In his heart, he knew he loved her more then one would think it possible to love someone, but he also knew that he couldn’t show it. He couldn’t ever lose her. So, it was time to stop feeling sorry for himself and put all of the energy he used in loving Dawn into being pleasant tonight, because it was the only way he could ever make her happy.
“So, then the guy says, oh yeah, if you think that’s bad you haven’t seen that gorilla on a Tuesday!!!”
Everyone laughed hysterically at Eric’s joke. The boy was more than a pretty face. He was very funny, and exceedingly charming. He was a very comforting person to be around; he even made Taylor feel somewhat at ease and he and Dawn seemed to be getting along great. Inside, Taylor felt his stomach turning and his heart ripping in two, but outside he managed to keep a smile plastered on his face.
Taylor hadn’t given much thought to his date. Her name was Jessica. She was a petite blonde; she barely reached Taylor’s shoulders, with huge, green eyes. She had a high pitched voice. It reminded Taylor of the mice in Cinderella. If you really listened to her for too long it was maddening. She was intelligent; there was no doubt about it. She knew a lot about music, books, politics, and sports, but Taylor couldn’t feel anything more toward her than a general liking as he might feel toward any decent human being.
“So Taylor,” Eric said leaning back in the booth, “Do you miss being on the road?”
Taylor wondered exactly what to say. Should he give the “Yeah, sure, of course, I mean music is my life and touring is like breathing” answer? Should he say the “Touring is wonderful, but I’m really glad to be home” spiel? Or perhaps he should say, “Well I would be much happier to be home, if you weren’t sitting next to the single human being that holds my heart entirely in her hands and making her look at you like that”.
“Oh well, you know, touring is nice, but home is home.”
And the conversation went on, and the night went on, seemingly forever. He couldn’t take this anymore. He felt like he was going to throw up and he wasn’t even trying. While they walked to the car, Eric kissed Dawn and Taylor’s heart ripped in two. He fumbled with an excuse of having forgotten his keys and ran into the bathroom. Tears welled in his eyes and he wished he were dead. He remembered the penknife key chain is his pocket and wondered what it would feel like to sink the cold blade into his skin. He’d heard people say it was the only true catharsis. More than tears. He lifted his shirt and closed his eyes. He touched cold blade to his skin and slashed across. He was almost shocked when he saw the violent red blood seep through his pale skin. He grabbed a napkin and pressed it against him wiping away some of the blood, but more seeped through. He knew that he had to do something because they were probably beginning to wonder what happened to him. He held the paper towel against him and pulled his shirt over it, praying that the blood wouldn’t seep through.
Taylor raced into his own bathroom when he got home. He yanked his shirt over his head and saw that the bleeding had stopped and all that remained was a neat, red line. He hoped it would scar. He wanted to remember this forever. He wanted to remember every time he took of his clothes. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to remember though. All he knew was scar or no scar; he’d never forget this.