But Not Enough..

[1234tellme]

Okay, I have here a tangled web thicker than imaginable, so for the sake of clarity the three men which feature prominently will be given letters at random, so as to remain in place while I explain my dismal predicament. Lets say, J, M, and T.

We begin in my sophomore year of high school (youngin's, I know..) where I ran cross country with J and T, and was in the band with all three gentlemen. T had previously been home-schooled, but had quickly become friends with all three of us, I being the first of the females in our school to look twice in his direction, nor the last, I daresay. I was head-over-heels absurdly infatuated with T, and unfortunately for my sake, J was head-over-heels absurdly infatuated with me. over the course of the next three years, he would routinely ask me out within 30 days, never missing his chance, and yes, I was fond of J, we were friends and had worked together, and had always been close, but my heart was forever in the possession of T, who to my knowledge had yet to suspect. He was dead gone on a girl I had at one time been fond of myself, but for the sake of this tale, we shall call her The Strumpet. Now, The Strumpet had M under her spell as well, and they two (T and M) were constantly at odds over who should win her affection, while I remained the less attractive, though certainly more clever, friend in the shadows (what a cliché high school world!)

Junior Year changed everything, for I had found myself with a powerful card in my hand: the transfer of affection in M from The Strumpet to myself, and I leapt at the chance. I figured if I could stray one man's attention from someone so grabbing as The Strumpet, surely someday T could be mine as well! Naturally, M was more than jealous of J who no less persisted after my affection the 7 months my relationship with M lasted. Oh, if only M could have known his true rival.

Here The Strumpet fails to play further part, for she had finished toying with my boys, and found herself a nice tenor sax to seduce all she liked. My relationship with M ended bitterly; we had both said we loved each other, but I only half meant it. Oh, sure I cared for M in my way, but he was no T, that is for sure!

My infatuation with T had at this point blossomed into a beautiful love, so grand and glorious within itself that I reveled in its light. The beginning of my Senior Year looked hopeful, our summer had been filled with the lighthearted comradeship that makes high school worth all its while, and I thought that I had seen for the very first time, a glimmer of something, the slightest hope that he too held affection for me! My dreams were realized when lo and behold one lovely football game, as we sat with the pep band awaiting the next touchdown, his hand reached for mine and lingered there much of the night. Not knowing quite what had happened, and hardly daring to question lest it disappear forever, I took the next month for what it gloriously would remain in my mind for. Nothing was ever said or established; we were not a couple, but we spent all our time together, we held hands and cuddled, we laughed and joked and thought deep lovely thoughts. But it could not last.

J would see to that: he threw his friendship with T into the fires, and T in all his goodness, could not lose his best friend. I understood. And so, without a word ever being spoken over the matter, as quickly as it had come down, our quiet romance ended.

T's sister, with whom I had always been very good friends, felt my grief hard. She would always assure me that T had indeed cared for me, cared for me so deeply. But not enough, I would remind her. Not enough for him to stand up to J, not enough for him to tell me how he felt, not enough to want me.

The rest of Senior Year passed in an unfamiliar stoniness, which neither of us, who had been such close friends, could quite grasp. I made one final attempt near prom, and asked awkwardly if he might go with me, knowing all the while that he would not. and he certainly didn’t. Our farewell was brief at graduation; he was moving to Washington, I was staying in Nevada.

I have not seen or spoken to T since then, and my friendship with J has dissolved, though I hear from time to time that he is well, and I have somehow managed to keep contact loosely with M. The year is quickly ending, and he will be home for the summer, but I am moving to Arizona, just about the time he will go back to Washington.

The great trouble is that I still love him. I love him with all my heart, thinking all the while of what I could have said or done differently, though I know it would have played out the same way. I dream about him from time to time, and his sister tells me that he is well. She is encouraging me that this summer may be my final chance, but I am not sure. How could two months make the difference that four years never did? Especially when such a chill has come with the final year?

Is there any hope in my plight? I'm not quite sure what I’m asking out of this.. I know it would be pointless to ask if I should move on. You would all say I should, and you'd be right. But I cant, I’ve tried and I cant. T is the only man for me in all the world, and he will always be, though he may not ever realized quite how deeply I felt.

People scoff at such devotion to love nowadays. They call it childish, they call it obsessive. Please, do not laugh at such a beautiful thing, I have no intention of labeling this a weak love. Simply tell me if you think there's hope, if you think it's fair of me to still care, if you think me a fool.