A recent encounter with someone from high school led me to ask this question of her, “What did you mean when you said you didn’t think you would be friends with someone like me?” She didn’t recall ever making the statement, but it has plagued me for decades. I always figured it had to do with my weight, you know, the fat girl with glasses that asked three guys to prom, offered to pay, and no takers. However, me being me, I knew there had to be more to that statement.
There’s a local bar near me that sells cigars and excellent smoked chicken wings, if you should care to partake. Many moons ago, I went there to buy my dad a cigar. When I walked in, I was greeted by a man with a booming raspy voice, “Gail, how the hell are ya?” I was visibly stunned, so he followed with another question, “Don’t ya remember me?” Sadly, I didn’t, but since then, I have frequented his establishment and continued to ponder, why does he know me? Recently, I looked through my high school year books trying to find him. While doing so, I was amazed to read statements beyond the obligatory, “Stay Cool!” referring to me as someone that was “sweet” or even more confounding, “wild”. Me? Okay, I could see the sweet, a little bit, but wild? I told this to a work friend of mine and she said, “Well, you are outspoken.” This is true, I did tell off the principle at a school assembly during a teacher layoff I didn’t agree with. Afterwards, total strangers approached me in the hallways saying, “I heard you told off Mr. Ciner!” Yeah, I did. If that constitutes “wild”, guilty as charged.
I eventually found the proprietor of the cigar shop in a year book, he is two years my junior, so how did he know me? I couldn’t find the connection except that maybe it had something to do with me being a photographer for the school newspaper and year book and he was in AV, but beyond that, I haven’t a clue. The next time I get a hankering for some excellent wings, I will have to ask him, because I really want to know. Also, I did some digging on the internet and it turns out, he’s done some really cool things in the entertainment industry, that I wish I had been a part of. My loss, for sure.
Someone like you. You mean someone that wears her heart out on her sleeve? Someone who feels ten times more than the average individual and is willing to express herself? When this high school friend was getting ready to leave for college, I wrote her notes about how much I was going to miss her, they made her cry. I have a gift, I can evoke emotions in most everyone, even those who claim to be ice cold, not that she was, but you know what I mean. I have always enjoyed writing, but I don’t have a flare to invent stories with creatures and adventures. No, I write about what I know, my dreams and aspirations, my goals, and my failures, I write the truth. There are those who can’t handle the truth and prefer my silence, not going to happen.
What does it mean to be someone like me? Well, besides feeling more than the average human being, I think A LOT! Sometimes I wish I could find the “off” button to my mind, but the reality is, I’m probably hyperactive and have a form of attention deficit, or what I deem, “shiny penny syndrome”. I could be knee deep in an argument and something awesome, like the sunset reflecting off the buildings in the distance catches my eye, and I immediately switch gears and go, “How pretty!” Then in the next heartbeat, I continue my disgust with my current situation…”shiny penny syndrome”.
Because of this amazing mind of mine, I have very vivid dreams. As of late, nightmares, but not the horror movie kind of nightmares, more like the, “that could have been my reality” nightmares if not for my father. We could have ended up homeless, living in the back of someone’s van and being discovered, if not for my father keeping a roof over our heads. I woke up in the middle of the night and went downstairs crying to talk to my kid that works nights and was off that evening. He silently listened to my story of how our lives may not be rainbows and unicorns, but it could have been a lot worse. Then, it happened, it could have been my drowsy hyper state, but I could hear the faintest music, he heard nothing.
As of late, I’ve been hearing more things that simply put, are not there. While on my back porch stairs, I swear I heard someone say, “Hey! Hey, hey!”, but there was no one there. It really freaked me out. Once again, my kid was in the front room and heard nothing. Yes, I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, between work and the world events that can potentially affect my Navy kid, but with God as my witness, I heard these things. It makes me wonder if I’m losing my mind, or if the veil between this world and the next is getting thinner.
Someone like me has been anticipating the 40th anniversary of my mother’s passing. I’ve been counting the days and tomorrow, will be 40 years that I have lived without my mother. It still hurts and it will never go away. When she died, it was then that I realized that her loss would always be a part of me and, it is. My friend who has felt and heard things since she was eight years old told me, “Welcome to my world.” I have always wondered about my “energy”, something so many have mentioned to me over the years. What is it about me that even though I’m not a “pet person”, animals approach me without cause. I’m a prickly pear, but kids love me. My plants have growth spurts, and flowers that I brought in for the winter, bloom when I’m told, they’re not supposed to do that.
What is it about me that I can instantly connect with someone and even throughout all the turmoil of a relationship based on passion and absence, I never ignore him. Time and time again, after safely being tucked away in a little pocket of his imagination, I emerge and he feels compelled to reach out to me. I’m not the one he chose. Instead, he chose to share his life with thin professional women and I’m the chunky hippie he longs to play with. Yes, I still work at the fruit and nut store. However, I believe I’m the one he feels alive with, who dares him to live his fantasy, not tuck it away.
He seems to reach out to me annually, this time of year. Maybe it’s when we met, I really don’t recall, but conveniently this time, he reached out to me just before my weekly therapy session. My therapist asked me, who did he meet? Gail or my alter ego, Vanessa? My response, “Actually, he met both.” Maybe, that’s why the tether between us is so strong. He had the privilege of seeing my “sweet” side and my “wild” side. Therefore, he is the splinter in my brain, someone I will never meet for coffee or a date of any sorts, but he is someone I will never let go of.
Someone like you. I’m a keeper of people, memories, dreams, and stories I’m not afraid to share. I am outspoken, hyper, emotional, and the eye of the storm. I am home, a safe harbor to all that seek shelter. I’m a lifelong friend, and someone who is always open to the possibilities, no matter how outlandish or dare I say, paranormal. I laugh when most would cry and I cry when I’m happy. I am an enigma and yet, I believe that simplicity is the secret ingredient.
I am love.
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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