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Orange

September 10, 2006 1:43 AM

want to take some time here to talk about She Who Must Not Be Named. Her name was Alison.

The first time I met Alison was at The House, on or around Mark's birthday. She was friends with a friend of one of the roommates. Mark was drunk. I don't think I was very drunk, if I was at all, because I didn't drink very much yet. In any event, Alison was there, and Mark and I got into an argument with her. I'm vehemently anti-affirmative action, and I was then, too. Mark agreed with me, and Alison vehemently disagreed. We got into a discussion. But because Mark was drunk and Mark and I work well as a team, and by "work well" I mean compliment each others' irrational anger, and because Alison was wrong, the thing turned into a sort of a huge screaming match. At some point, Alison said something like "Ismael, you might not have gotten into this school if not for affirmative action." Or something similar. Or something I took to be similar. So Mark and I screamed at her some more and then I called her a stupid racist bitch. Then she went upstairs and cried.

I didn't see her again for a while. Then, one day, I was at this restaurant known for its wings. My friends bet me $1 that I couldn't eat 40 chicken wings in half an hour. It turns out that I can eat 40 chicken wings in half an hour. Sweet. Inevitably, I ended up at The House. Once there, I started playing a game of beer pong. And it came to my attention that Alison was visiting (she lived in Phoenix, I lived in Flagstaff). After our mutual friends convinced me to talk to her, I apologized, and the whole first meeting was washed away in drunkeness.

Through a strange series of events, I ended up drinking a cup that was half-full of a mixture of Everclear and Bacardi 151. Shortly thereafter, the party ended and I started vomiting chicking wings all over the house. At some point, I ended up in my underwear, apparently crawling around in my own throw up. And who made sure that I was alright? And cleaned me up? And basically made sure I didn't die? And helped me clean up in the morning? Alison.

We stayed up talking all night, and in the morning she gave me her phone number and I told her I'd be in touch. We didn't talk again for 6 months.

When we saw each other again, it was as if no time had passed. We picked up right where we left off and from then on started talking on the phone at least once a day every day. And it wasn't just me that called her - she called me just as often if not moreso.

As time passed, we became closer and closer, to the point where we started saying "I love you" at the end of phone conversations. Something which, by the way, she started. It put me in a strange situation. On the one hand, I had never had such an awesome friend. She really was my best friend, and I loved that. I really was happy with the situation. On the other hand, I saw no reason why we should be "just friends," and I developed some pretty strong feelings.

Things started to get strange. She would say that we talked on the phone too much and that she needed space. So I would stop calling her. But she would keep calling me - sometimes as many as 4 or 5 times a day. Sometimes, she'd call just to say that she'd gotten out of class and that she was thinking about me. So we'd start talking frequently again. And then she'd pull the same shit.

She was going to Bali for an exchange thing. We went to our favorite restaurant, ordered our favorite meal, which we split, and she told me she had a present for me. She told me to close my eyes. I did, and when I opened them and looked down, there was this little plastic orange fish on the table in front of me. I asked her what it was, and she said something like: "Well, my favorite color is orange and I love to swim. So this fish represents me. And I'm giving it to you." That was the kind of thing she did - symbolic, sentimental stuff like that. And it pretty much crushed me with the weight of how much it meant to me.

She went to Bali. She sent post cards and emails, including me (and only me) on emails she sent to her family. She came back, we reunited, and she was super-happy, as was I. Then, one day, she was on her way to Colorado, so she stopped by Flagstaff. We hung out with our friends for a while, and then she left. A few hours passed, and I proceeded to get wicked drunk. Then she called, saying that she had forgotten her purse and needed to come back. So she returned, and I was wasted. So I told her that I needed to talk to her. Deciding that I was sick of my feelings getting in the way of our friendship, I said to her in no uncertain terms that I loved being her friend, that that was enough for me, that I was happy with where we were, that I loved her very much and that I didn't want to do anything, or have her think I wanted to do something, that she didn't want to do and/or wasn't interested in. I admit that I said it much less eloquently than that. And that we were in a room I locked.

We hugged, she was crying. She thanked me. She left. And, some time later, she called again. She said that I was a bad friend, that I was terrible and that she couldn't believe I had done that. The the phone cut out. And so ended our friendship.

She didn't return my calls or emails for two weeks. And when she did, she made it clear that things could never be the way they had been again. She made it clear, in fact, that we weren't friends on any level. I struggled to comprehend that. And I couldn't. And it was the shittiest I've ever felt.

Some time later, she moved to Flagstaff for the summer - something she had talked about doing the whole time we had been friends but which she refused to do. She moved into a house where some of my friends lived. On the 4th of July, I went over there for a BBQ because that's where all my friends were. I ignored her as much as I possibly could. Then, when we were alone inside the house, she walked up to me and asked me how I was doing. I said to her: "You don't have the right to ask me that question. Or to say hello. The least you could do is ignore me and pretend we haven't even met."

And that's what she did from then on.

So that's the story of the person who hurt me more than any other person ever has.



10 Comments


maggie said:

some girls are psychotic...lovely, but truly psychotic.

September 10, 2006 9:19 AM



Lily said:

Hmmm. Yeah, girls do that sometimes. The theory is, it's emotionally selfish to tell somebody something they don't want to hear. I'd probably be pissed if I were her, too.

But if I were you, I would have had the same reaction. . . "Don't be my friend anymore, this leads nowhere good for me."

Yah. Life's real fun sometimes.

September 10, 2006 5:01 PM



Ismael Tapia II said:

I've heard this theory before. But I wonder if it's not more emotionally selfish to stop so much as speaking to someone based solely on their being honest with you about their emotions. I mean, it seems to me that a fundamental problem in human relationships is that no one can bring themselves to be completely honest. Therefore, it seems counterproductive to me to say that it's a problem to say what you mean and mean what you say.

Maybe I could have picked a better time, or picked a better way, to say what I said. But it doesn't seem to that I did something fundamentally wrong. People have told me things I haven't wanted to hear in the past, but that's not their fault: the subjective state "not wanting to hear something" is mine, not theirs. And they shouldn't be held responsible for my not wanting to hear something, I don't think.

September 10, 2006 5:45 PM



Lauren said:

What a horrid day that was.

September 10, 2006 9:27 PM



Dee said:

oh yes, alison.

i sort of wish that this post ended with the chicken wing story. who was the cheap ass who wagered $1? my gut says distefano.


let's hope that remains the interpersonal low watermark.

September 10, 2006 9:45 PM



Ismael Tapia II said:

Actually, that bet predated the Ismael/PJ bet on anything phenomenon. It was a bet involving Phllippe, Lindsay, and Toben.

September 10, 2006 11:27 PM



Elise said:

sorry, but i have to disagree with maggie. if you are good friends with someone then you need to be comfortable telling them how you feel AND with them telling you how they feel. otherwise, what the hell kind of friendship do you have? not a very good one.

i don't think it's emotionally selfish at all to say to someone that you will subsume your own emotions in order to preserve a friendship. that may, in fact, be the definition of being emotionally generous.

all Ismael did was tell her that he valued their friendship too much to screw it up. um hello? that's a GOOD thing. what is wrong with saying that to someone? answer: nothing.

September 15, 2006 12:41 PM



Elise said:

sorry, but i have to disagree with maggie. if you are good friends with someone then you need to be comfortable telling them how you feel AND with them telling you how they feel. otherwise, what the hell kind of friendship do you have? not a very good one.

i don't think it's emotionally selfish at all to say to someone that you will subsume your own emotions in order to preserve a friendship. that may, in fact, be the definition of being emotionally generous.

all Ismael did was tell her that he valued their friendship too much to screw it up. um hello? that's a GOOD thing. what is wrong with saying that to someone? answer: nothing.

September 15, 2006 12:42 PM



Immigrant said:

This is just one of those things that happens to all young men of a certain age. They meet someone who seems really awesome, is totally caring and loving (unconditionally even), then we start to feel uncomfortable with our feelings for that person, or that person's feelings for us.

Let's face it, we men are emotionally retarded above the waist much longer than girls. Most women have such a one-up on us in this department (*most* women).

Eventually, whenever we meet some girl and hit it off well, Mr. Penis wants in on the deal. Mr. Penis is a bastard.

Now, your ex-friend here seems like a pretty flighty person, probably has some emotional issues of her own. Mr. Penis loves these girls. Mr. Penis thrives on their every hint at feelings just below the surface of any conversation. Mr. Penis wants to conquer these girls for his own and leave you spent and awkward.

My philosophy is this: Avoid these girls at all costs. If you must speak with them in the future, jerk off (preferably in private) and get on with life. They will never return the feelings you have for them, and even worse, seem to thrive on relationships with people who disregard their feelings altogether.

This is not your fault.

Okay, so this comment doesn't end so seriously, I've decided to say penis a few more times. Penis penis penis.

September 23, 2006 6:39 AM



Ismael Tapia II said:

Elise:
Thanks for the backup. I agree - it's not a real friendship if you can't be honest with someone. The fact of the matter is that I had something that I wanted to talk about with Alison. A friend, it seems to me, should be able to talk to a friend about anything.

While it's possible to be "emotionally selfish," I think I don't think it's correct to say that that's what I was doing by being honest about the way I felt.

Mr. Immigrant:
You prove your wisdom in your comments. I have always been drawn to flighty, emotionally distant women. I have no idea why. Maybe it's some terrible character flaw of mine - I want women who are entirely uninterested in settling down to settle down with me. I don't know. But in any event, you're right: I should stay away. And so should everyone else.

September 26, 2006 2:20 AM



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