Ghost Of Yourself
Nov. 2nd, 2009 08:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
exhilarationI guess... it's something everyone does at some point in their life. Isn't it? Deals with their childhood bedroom? Dismantles it? Removes it from physical existence?
In my head, my bedroom is still there, exactly the way it was... I can see it all so clearly, I can shut my eyes and I'm nine again, sitting in the corner behind a piece of twine tied between my shelves and my desk drawer and a sign hanging from it saying "keep out." I know what's in my closet, in my desk drawers, under my bed... one day I was hit with a fit of unsentimentality and dumped out everything in my desk drawers and put it all in the garbage and dragged the can out to the curb - all the drawings, all the stories, all the school papers and worksheets and everything else in there - gone. That wasn't my life anymore and I wanted it gone. Physically - it's all gone. That room has a different carpet now, different walls and different curtains, and the furniture that was mine growing up is in my younger sister's apartment in her guest room, and not one thing is the same as the room that still exists in my head.
Last night me and B watched Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon in Mandarin (still trying to learn Chinese, you see) and we watched it upstairs because neither of us could figure out how to turn the subtitles off playing the DVD on the playstation (playstation is back downstairs where it belongs, DVD player is upstairs) and his dad sat and watched it with us. When he realized what we were doing he started pointing out every word he heard that he recognized. So that was kinda cool. But I didn't see the end of the movie - we didn't put it in until after the World Series (Phillies lost) so it was pretty late. I fell asleep. I thought I was laying on the couch with B but I woke up sitting on the floor with my head on the couch, and B was sleeping too. His dad actually woke me up, which really startled me, and he was like, now, don't sleep on my living room floor, that's not a good idea. Which... of course, it isn't, but it was really weird.
I didn't want to drive home cause it was like... four in the morning, and I don't live that close to where he lives, and I think sleeping in the basement by myself is kinda creepy, so I went and slept in the other bedroom again.
And I woke up to my boyfriend pulling the drawers out of the desk and the whole room looked like a tornado blew through it and I was like wth are you doing?
And he was like, I need to deal with this room, because if I don't, no one ever will and it's just gonna get weirder and weirder.
And I was like, you need to do this now?
And he was like, I need to get the fuck out of here. So yeah, I do need to do it now.
And so I sat on the floor with him for a little while and watched him put stuff either in piles or in a trash bag and I was like... do you want me to go away? Do you want... help? What do you want me to do here?
And he asked me if I could go to the UPS store and get him some of those fold up boxes that come in like packs of ten and so... I did that. And he boxed a bunch of stuff up and then picked up one box and put it down right away and was like, holy shit, that was a bad idea. Ow fucking ow. And then he looked at me and was like, what do you think, can you help me put all this in the closet, or am I just leaving them all over the floor until I can pick them up?
I thought about telling him to just ask his dad to move them, but, I kinda think he already decided he wasn't doing that. Well, I can't pick a box up off the floor. So that's out. And the floor is carpeted, too, so pushing the boxes out of the middle of the room isn't an easy thing either, but maybe we could do that together. Probably if I sit on the floor I could try to stack the boxes... except I'm still really sore from whatever I did at the gym the other day and piling boxes might be okay but getting up off the floor would really hurt, I know cause I've done it a couple times already and it was pretty painful. And then he was like, just forget it, I can just see this ending really badly, don't even touch them. I'll move them some other time.
And I was like, sorry. And he was like, don't be. And then he was like, I need to get out of this town. I can't stay here. I hate this place.
...I remember he told me once that moving back home was supposed to be just for a little while, and then he just... didn't leave. Cause it was just easier to live down there in the basement, for free. He was eighteen when he lived in Camden - he said having his own place didn't work out - I think that whole thing just didn't work out, not moving away from here, not college, not living on his own - I'm sure it was a combination of a bunch of things. But he's far from eighteen now and he could have moved out ages ago. He just didn't. I always thought that was weird - but lots of people around here live at home, especially in the summer.
And with absolutely the least sarcasm possible, I asked him if he's leaving is he going to Connecticut, then?
And he just stared at me and was like, no, of course not, I can't snowboard so what would be the point?
Well. I thought a lot of things. I thought probably Jory would be pretty pissed to know that he was considering moving up there just so he could have a longer snowboarding season. And fully intending to leave in the spring. He and I have had this conversation a couple times, actually. I can see the draw - it's what Ryan does. Floats around like that. But if I were in Jory's place, I think I'd be pretty pissed if I was like, blah blah blah, I miss you, I wish we were still together, move in with me, I don't want to be without you just cause I moved away - and then he stayed for like four months and then left again, because winter was over.
But I just told him that in a month or two he'd probably be okay to snowboard if he wanted to.
He doesn't want to. He said smashing his head in once was enough for him, thanks, and it's probably really unsafe to go doing something so intense as snowboarding. And he's probably right. If he played a contact sport or something, his doctor would probably tell him not to play this year. Snowboarding's kind of the same thing.
And so I was like, well... so, what is your plan then? You keep saying you want out of here - what are you actually going to do?
And he just said he didn't know. Then he said maybe he'd just stay in China like Jason did.
And I was like 0.o stay in China? You can't even do that. It's China.
But he just said again that Jason did it, so obviously it's possible.
Well, but, isn't Jason's wife Chinese? No, she's Vietnamese. Well - is Jason still a US citizen? He is. Okay... did Jason go to China on a tourist Visa or a work Visa?
Right. A work visa. You can't just... go there to visit and then stay. This is China. They're intense about paperwork. And... it's China. Why would you want to live there?
Jason lives there.
And I was just like >.< well you see how you like being the only white person in a fifty mile radius and then tell me you want to live there. You don't even speak Chinese. Come on, let's get out of the house, let's do something today, you're right, you do need to get the fuck out of here.
And so we went to the arcade on the island, on the boardwalk, near my house, and played games for a few hours. The arcade was totally deserted, I'm surprised it was even open on a weekday, but there were a couple other kids there. Well, kids, anyway, I guess I can't say "other kids" cause me and B aren't kids, now, are we? Mortal Kombat and Space Invaders were my poison of choice - and we had a good round of air hockey, too, and then B wanted to walk around on the boardwalk just to be outside and get some exercise, cause I know just sitting around is driving him nuts, but again - my side is just so sore. I know it will go away, it already feels better than it did, it's just a pulled muscle, obviously I was a little too enthusiastic at the gym, but it hurts. Walking around aimlessly is not something I want to do.
And so we went back to my house and B said maybe he should try running or something, on the grass, not on concrete, just so he doesn't get completely out of shape, if he can stand it. If it's not too jarring. And I was like, hello, swim in the pool. That's like the most low-impact exercise you can possibly do. But he said he thinks he'd pass out in the water and he's not getting near it.
I still feel bad about yesterday. And I feel bad for him, period. He's been talking about getting out of here for pretty much as long as I've been here. And he's right. This place sucks you in.
In my head, my bedroom is still there, exactly the way it was... I can see it all so clearly, I can shut my eyes and I'm nine again, sitting in the corner behind a piece of twine tied between my shelves and my desk drawer and a sign hanging from it saying "keep out." I know what's in my closet, in my desk drawers, under my bed... one day I was hit with a fit of unsentimentality and dumped out everything in my desk drawers and put it all in the garbage and dragged the can out to the curb - all the drawings, all the stories, all the school papers and worksheets and everything else in there - gone. That wasn't my life anymore and I wanted it gone. Physically - it's all gone. That room has a different carpet now, different walls and different curtains, and the furniture that was mine growing up is in my younger sister's apartment in her guest room, and not one thing is the same as the room that still exists in my head.
Last night me and B watched Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon in Mandarin (still trying to learn Chinese, you see) and we watched it upstairs because neither of us could figure out how to turn the subtitles off playing the DVD on the playstation (playstation is back downstairs where it belongs, DVD player is upstairs) and his dad sat and watched it with us. When he realized what we were doing he started pointing out every word he heard that he recognized. So that was kinda cool. But I didn't see the end of the movie - we didn't put it in until after the World Series (Phillies lost) so it was pretty late. I fell asleep. I thought I was laying on the couch with B but I woke up sitting on the floor with my head on the couch, and B was sleeping too. His dad actually woke me up, which really startled me, and he was like, now, don't sleep on my living room floor, that's not a good idea. Which... of course, it isn't, but it was really weird.
I didn't want to drive home cause it was like... four in the morning, and I don't live that close to where he lives, and I think sleeping in the basement by myself is kinda creepy, so I went and slept in the other bedroom again.
And I woke up to my boyfriend pulling the drawers out of the desk and the whole room looked like a tornado blew through it and I was like wth are you doing?
And he was like, I need to deal with this room, because if I don't, no one ever will and it's just gonna get weirder and weirder.
And I was like, you need to do this now?
And he was like, I need to get the fuck out of here. So yeah, I do need to do it now.
And so I sat on the floor with him for a little while and watched him put stuff either in piles or in a trash bag and I was like... do you want me to go away? Do you want... help? What do you want me to do here?
And he asked me if I could go to the UPS store and get him some of those fold up boxes that come in like packs of ten and so... I did that. And he boxed a bunch of stuff up and then picked up one box and put it down right away and was like, holy shit, that was a bad idea. Ow fucking ow. And then he looked at me and was like, what do you think, can you help me put all this in the closet, or am I just leaving them all over the floor until I can pick them up?
I thought about telling him to just ask his dad to move them, but, I kinda think he already decided he wasn't doing that. Well, I can't pick a box up off the floor. So that's out. And the floor is carpeted, too, so pushing the boxes out of the middle of the room isn't an easy thing either, but maybe we could do that together. Probably if I sit on the floor I could try to stack the boxes... except I'm still really sore from whatever I did at the gym the other day and piling boxes might be okay but getting up off the floor would really hurt, I know cause I've done it a couple times already and it was pretty painful. And then he was like, just forget it, I can just see this ending really badly, don't even touch them. I'll move them some other time.
And I was like, sorry. And he was like, don't be. And then he was like, I need to get out of this town. I can't stay here. I hate this place.
...I remember he told me once that moving back home was supposed to be just for a little while, and then he just... didn't leave. Cause it was just easier to live down there in the basement, for free. He was eighteen when he lived in Camden - he said having his own place didn't work out - I think that whole thing just didn't work out, not moving away from here, not college, not living on his own - I'm sure it was a combination of a bunch of things. But he's far from eighteen now and he could have moved out ages ago. He just didn't. I always thought that was weird - but lots of people around here live at home, especially in the summer.
And with absolutely the least sarcasm possible, I asked him if he's leaving is he going to Connecticut, then?
And he just stared at me and was like, no, of course not, I can't snowboard so what would be the point?
Well. I thought a lot of things. I thought probably Jory would be pretty pissed to know that he was considering moving up there just so he could have a longer snowboarding season. And fully intending to leave in the spring. He and I have had this conversation a couple times, actually. I can see the draw - it's what Ryan does. Floats around like that. But if I were in Jory's place, I think I'd be pretty pissed if I was like, blah blah blah, I miss you, I wish we were still together, move in with me, I don't want to be without you just cause I moved away - and then he stayed for like four months and then left again, because winter was over.
But I just told him that in a month or two he'd probably be okay to snowboard if he wanted to.
He doesn't want to. He said smashing his head in once was enough for him, thanks, and it's probably really unsafe to go doing something so intense as snowboarding. And he's probably right. If he played a contact sport or something, his doctor would probably tell him not to play this year. Snowboarding's kind of the same thing.
And so I was like, well... so, what is your plan then? You keep saying you want out of here - what are you actually going to do?
And he just said he didn't know. Then he said maybe he'd just stay in China like Jason did.
And I was like 0.o stay in China? You can't even do that. It's China.
But he just said again that Jason did it, so obviously it's possible.
Well, but, isn't Jason's wife Chinese? No, she's Vietnamese. Well - is Jason still a US citizen? He is. Okay... did Jason go to China on a tourist Visa or a work Visa?
Right. A work visa. You can't just... go there to visit and then stay. This is China. They're intense about paperwork. And... it's China. Why would you want to live there?
Jason lives there.
And I was just like >.< well you see how you like being the only white person in a fifty mile radius and then tell me you want to live there. You don't even speak Chinese. Come on, let's get out of the house, let's do something today, you're right, you do need to get the fuck out of here.
And so we went to the arcade on the island, on the boardwalk, near my house, and played games for a few hours. The arcade was totally deserted, I'm surprised it was even open on a weekday, but there were a couple other kids there. Well, kids, anyway, I guess I can't say "other kids" cause me and B aren't kids, now, are we? Mortal Kombat and Space Invaders were my poison of choice - and we had a good round of air hockey, too, and then B wanted to walk around on the boardwalk just to be outside and get some exercise, cause I know just sitting around is driving him nuts, but again - my side is just so sore. I know it will go away, it already feels better than it did, it's just a pulled muscle, obviously I was a little too enthusiastic at the gym, but it hurts. Walking around aimlessly is not something I want to do.
And so we went back to my house and B said maybe he should try running or something, on the grass, not on concrete, just so he doesn't get completely out of shape, if he can stand it. If it's not too jarring. And I was like, hello, swim in the pool. That's like the most low-impact exercise you can possibly do. But he said he thinks he'd pass out in the water and he's not getting near it.
I still feel bad about yesterday. And I feel bad for him, period. He's been talking about getting out of here for pretty much as long as I've been here. And he's right. This place sucks you in.
