Call Me Crazy (Or, Just Call Me.)

This would be day four. Day four of being awake past three in the morning. Being awake past three because I can’t stop thinking about Josh.

I know what I need to do, I’ve been fantastically logical in my actions about the whole thing. I’ve left him alone and have decided to wait patiently until late May when I’ll see him again. I’m not a patient person, I never have been (and if I’ve ever claimed to be, I was flat-out lying,) but I’m perfectly content to be patient in this case, and restrain the constant impulse to send him a text-message every hour.

I was so restless tonight that around midnight I found myself pacing my room (my room that I had just spent an hour rearranging because of said restlessness) just thinking about him. About his voice, his face, his walk, his stare. Dozens of books from various stores and libraries lay scattered across my floor, leaving to the imagination any range of scenarios that could have led the area into a state such as this. As I walked I scooped down by one of my windows and picked up The Psychopathology of Everyday Life by Freud, I flipped it open and read a few sentences as I paced. I reread the words when I realized that I couldn’t understand any of them – not that they were no longer legible to me, it was simply that I couldn’t sink my teeth into any of them, wrap my head around the phrases, make sense of a single concept. They were just words. Just black against white. Nothing more. I tossed the book aside, making my cat jump upon hearing the slap of one book cover against another. The feline looked up with murder in her eyes for a moment before returning to her nap. I picked up another book, which ended up being French Essentials for Dummies, I didn’t even bother opening it before tossing it away, much to the fury of Abby Num-Nums. My mind sent me into a flashback, Christmas Eve, as I was snipping away behind my register (using receipt paper to make snowflakes) I saw him watching me with a tired, contemplative expression in my peripheral. I looked up and smiled, waving with the scissors still poised in my right hand. He nodded and smiled back. I thought to myself how he must like me, and went back to focusing on my task.

Just when I think I’ve pulled my mind away from a memory, I’m sucked back in. And there comes a point every half hour where I ask myself if I can make it four months without doing something downright stupid.

A lot can happen in four months. I remind myself. You might just find someone else. Then I see his face in my mind and I drop the idea. I’ve never felt this way about a guy before.

I’ve been turning over every single moment I spent with Josh, like a part of me is looking for some deeper meaning, a hidden message, something in his facial expressions I missed. Maybe a moment I couldn’t remember previously, like when you switch to Monk when you see it on the TV guide late at night and discover with an understandable dose of joy that it’s an episode you’ve somehow never seen before. But I run the idea around only to find myself right where I started. I’ve seen this episode before. Darn.

All of this to say, simply: I miss him.

But suppose he made it clear from day one that he felt the same. Suppose he were to call me now at three in the morning and say he cares about me. Suppose I’m out and about tomorrow and he walks right up and says he stopped into town just to see me. What could I do? I couldn’t do anything, because I don’t even have a silly license. We couldn’t date anyway because until I’m 18 all gentlemen must get 100% approval from Mother Madame (and I tell you now, this is not possible. So far my relationships have just happened suddenly and somehow end up private the entire time. They also all end up distant and 90% of communication is done through a digital medium.) By the time I am 18 (July 6th) Summer will be about over and I’ll be off to college, and then what? There doesn’t seem to be a window of time where it would work out. And that’s assuming he’ll still fancy me by July.

This, dear friends, is the point in time where my mind gives me the most radical idea, just to see how it seems to fit. The idea being that tomorrow I just call and say the following:

“Hello Sir, just wanted to let you know that I’m crazy about you, and that I haven’t slept in about a week because I’ve been up pacing and thinking about you. How I think it’s funny when you get annoyed, how I love the sound of your voice, how I love how you treat your family, how you know what you want out of life, how I loved the way you’d lean back against the register with your arms crossed and your head slightly tilted when you were tired, your eyes seemed softer when you were tired. I just wanted you to know all of that because, see, I miss you more than I’ve ever missed anybody in my life, and I can’t very well imagine anyone who could deserve you. Except (if I’m being honest,) me. I think this is just something you should know, because you make me happy, and I know I’ve made you happy once or twice. I suppose I hope this is a bit of a shock, a pleasant surprise, actually. Have a good afternoon.”

A radical idea indeed, but it felt nice to put all of that in writing.




10 thoughts on “Call Me Crazy (Or, Just Call Me.)

  1. Oh, you crack me up! How much would a “Hey, how ya doin’?” text hurt? Just to let him know you’re thinking about him. It’s simple, but not too direct. You could also add that you were thinking about Christmas and miss the chats you used to have. And say “would love to talk to you.”. If he responds great, if not, don’t read into it! Wait a couple more weeks then try again. We’ll go from there We’ll go to plan B….heeheeheehee….
    (I’m in love with someone but he lives 3600 miles across the Atlantic! Yeah, try conversing from THAT distance!)

    • I have tried sending little texts just asking how he is, but with every few days he responses become shorter, less detailed, he stopped asking questions and I worried about becoming a pest. It let me think for a short while about my feelings and how fast they would fade, and a couple of nights ago I started to wonder if I was starting to forget about him, too. But then I saw a photo of him and I felt incredibly awake.

      😀 I love how your comments make courtship sound like a diabolical plot to hook someone! I suppose for females it is, sort of, we play games and sometimes it works. That’s rather inconvenient about the man you’re in love with, I was just looking at undergraduate universities to apply to, and every time I looked at a university farther than fifteen miles, I would feel something close to physical pain. I was going to just look at universities nearby…but then I thought of what the lot of you would say to me if I did 😉 all that to say that I can’t imagine what that distance must be like, and I’m sincerely sorry the distance exists.

  2. Matters of the heart are often so compliated aren’t they? But sometimes they are not as complicated as they seem at 3am. Maybe don’t tell him all that in one shot, but I’d definitely follow ryoko861’s advice – just text him to say hi, and that you miss seeing him and see where that leads you?

    I’ve had other relationships, and the only time I’ve ever felt the way you have described your feelings for Josh, well is right now with my current boyfriend, or rather other half.

    You’re 17, I’m sure if your mother saw that you were happy with a boy that she wouldn’t react as harshly as you think. My own mother surprised me when I asked to bring my boyfriend home to meet her when our relationship was fairly new and well now my family love him, mostly because he makes me happy.

    • I hint-hinted about him several weeks ago, my mom had just driven me home from work (she had just finished work, too, she works about ten minutes away from me and on good days our schedules matched up.) a little over a year ago as we were walking of a Target one night, I mumbled something about teenage boys being annoying.
      “Well, don’t be too fast to judge.” She said, “There are some good guys out there.”
      I kept this in mind when I said to her suddenly that night after work,
      “There are some nice guys out there. I mean, it takes some tracking down, but you were right.”
      She set down her purse on the dining room table as I walked to the kitchen sink to wash my hands.
      “Well,” she said, “If any of them ask you for a date, you tell them ‘not while I’m under my mom’s roof.'”
      “But you never know, I might-”
      “What?” She couldn’t hear me over the sink, I shut it off with a whack of my palm and dried my hands.
      “I said, you never know, I might find somebody.”
      She didn’t respond, but her face told me she wasn’t pleased.

      I know that I don’t want to go her behind her back, but after the Summer I probably won’t see him again until maybe Winter if he goes back for seasonal work. Maybe that should be enough for me – more than one fellow blogger has advised me not to force anything, and maybe he’ll never ask me out…

      I do hope that one day I’ll have a relationship like yours – you truly deserve to be happy and I’m thrilled that you’ve found what you were looking for 🙂

  3. Mlle. Hannah-Elizabeth, your capacity for imagining the future and for hope and joy in the present are greater than you think. I must tell you that I was always a wildly romantic soul and longed for a passionate connection from fairly early in my youth. (So I think I understand pretty well how you feel!)

    Sometimes my romantic desire was focused (even for a long time, occasionally) on a specific male and often it was just a sense of longing for that deep connection with *someone*. My Someone arrived (having already been known of for years but always in an unattainable way that was strictly off my personal radar) when I was . . . 35 years old.

    I never got remotely serious with anyone before that because it turned out that in my case the universe was unusually kind and didn’t put me in serious proximity to any of those earlier guys I’d hankered after, hoped for, lusted after or dreamed of at all. I dated a few guys along the way but never felt any special connection, even with the *two* I actually dated for any length of time. It wasn’t based for me on household restrictions for age or level of involvement so much as just the way things did or didn’t happen, I guess.

    By the time my real love asked me out, not only had I shaped a life in which I was genuinely contentedly single and assumed I always would be so, he had done quite the same (but in very different ways, having been married twice before). When we finally connected, it was not only a wonderful surprise that the passion and joy were all I had imagined and then some, but better yet that it was a complete bonus when we were both already happy and complete people. I can say truthfully that every second of those long, supposedly lonely years disappeared in a puff of smoke when I woke up in love with the person who was unquestionably worth the wait–even when I thought I’d stopped waiting.

    It’s different for everybody, but I know that for me the saving grace of all the intervening time was the wonderful friendships I cultivated with a number of great guys with whom there were no expectations of anything More, who collectively taught me a whole lot of the things I added to my list of what would finally attract me to the most perfect guy in the world–for *me*. And I think, shaped the me that was attractive to *him*.


    • Thank you, Madame Kathryn 🙂 Sometimes I think about how old I’ll be when I get married… I envy Heather sometimes because she found ‘the one’ at fifteen. I suppose my impatience can be due to a longing that I’ll have a long time with whoever it is I end up with. I know that time and life is so extremely fleeting, that no matter what the time I will have will never be long enough.
      But you remind me that there is something to be said for patience, and that there is someone out there worth the wait 🙂

  4. I am back from the dead officially. And get welcomed back with an undying love post from classic. I love it! But yes, love is truly a game. if played correctly you will win. if not, you’ll end up with a few more weeks of sleepless nights, unfortunately. But it’s been a few days-heard anything back from him yet? If not, then yes, move on or add him to a ‘tdb’ list 🙂

    • Melanie!!! Oh, how I’ve missed your blog! I’m extremely happy that you’ve stopped by my little blog 😀
      Still no word from him, but I’ve gotten to a good place with that, for the most part. I rather absurdly cried over him the other night. I’ve never felt this way about a guy before, and sometimes the distance and silence and knowledge that he’s seeing someone else hurts a lot…
      Thank you grandly for taking the time to read and comment!

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