I'm not very good with long, emotional speeches. I say that right now. I mean, I'm a very romantic person and a great public speaker, but I've never been one for laying my soul on the line. Especially not to someone I loved as much as Chris.
Ever notice how people love to toss that word around? "I love cake", "I love the outdoors.", "I love this blouse."
The real truth was, I was both clinically in love with Chris, and emotionally. I had all the symptoms of love, and a few new ones, but the biggest obstacle, was that Chris was an asshole.
But guess what? It turns out that he really wasn't.
My whole body buzzing with sensation, and flushed with intense heat, I told the blue-eyed boy the truth about everything. How he made me feel and how I felt about him. True to his word, he didn't say anything until I was done.
"So, what you're telling me...is...ummm...What are you telling me?" He replied, after the requisite moment to think it over.
I took a deep breath and said, in as professional a tone as possible, considering my state of mind at that point, "What I'm say is, basically, that for reasons that I'm not quite sure of, I'm pretty, almost definately, kind of sure that I'm pretty much sort of in love with you. You make me feel things that annoy the hell out of me, but I am really in love with you and stuff."
"But I'm an asshole, right?" He replied.
"No!" I exclaimed as quietly as possible, "I thought you were, but I decided you're not."
"You decided I'm not?"
I shook my head and laughed uncomfortably, "It's difficult to explain. I didn't even want to tell you. I just felt that I needed to let you know, since I couldn't be your friend, because of the way I felt."
"So, we can't be friends anymore?" He asked, confused.
I shrugged, "I didn't think you would want to be my friend after this."
Chris shrugged, "It doesn't matter to me, really. I mean, I like you, but if you don't want to be my friend anymore, I won't kill myself or anything over it."
I was struck by how mean that sounded, but I'm sure Chris didn't mean it that way, so I just shook my head and said, "No, I really want to be your friend."
Chris shrugged and continued to look like he wasn't affected at all by my spiel. "Okay, then, I guess. Oh, umm...There is something else..."
"Yeah?" I asked.
Chris shrugged, "Does it really bother you that much that I smoke?"
I couldn't deny it. Just hearing him talk about it, I nearly had tears in my eyes. "Yeah, it really does."
Chris nodded, "Okay, then I'll try and quit. I was thinking about it before, but now I sort of have a reason."
"You don't have to." I shrugged and said.
Chris shook his head, "No, I mean, if it bothers you that much, then I'll quit. I'll do it for you, I guess."
I looked at him and smiled, "You'd do that for me?"
He smiled slightly, "I'll try. I mean, I...I...have to get to class now. We'll talk later, okay?"
I nodded and watched him get up and walk quickly out of the cafeteria.
I felt quite relieved, as if a huge weight had been lifted from my chest. I had said what I had been holding in for the past few weeks, and Chris had been okay with it. Maybe slightly more than okay.
Naw, I should be happy with what I had gained. A friend who knew I was in love with him and didn't mind. I could foresee a problem somewhere down the line, when my love got too strong and I eventually just kissed him or something, but until there, I had a friend and his name was Chris...
Ah shit, I forgot to ask him his last name!
Dammit, dammit, dammit!!!
Also, was it Christian or Christopher or Christmas...no, probably not Christmas. Obviously he wasn't jewish.
But I'm babbling now.
To get back to me, my feelings for Chris changed, again, on that day. To tell you the honest truth, and I'm only saying this because I trust you guys, I was hot for Chris. I mean, super hot! I hated him, it's true, but I also hated Taylor Hanson, but that didn't mean I didn't shed a few teaspoons of semen over him.
Oh, by the way, Hanson was pretty cute by this point. I mean, Taylor was looking really faggotty, and I didn't mind him as much. Heck, I'd fuck the bastard. Zac, meanwhile, was still fist food, palm play...ummm...well, he was a jack-off icon, assuming you dug that type of kid.
Well, I basically gave myself away there. For the past few weeks, since I started hating Chris, I'd frequently masturbate while thinking about him. Something about him always seemed to radiate sexually. Kind of like Zac, I guess, but not that as obvious a way. Chris was pretty damn cute, and he was still pretty damn cute, after I told him that I thought he was pretty damn cute, but once I had that speech done I no longer thought of him in a sexual way. I mean, that's not to say that I didn't dream about him in ways that, if I didn't empty my balls once a day, would definitely result in a nocturnal emission, but I no longer actively went out of my way to include him as a sexual fantasy of mine. Plus, I had other dreams about him that had nothing to do with sex.
Oh, and here's another David Levine Public Service Announcement. Did you know that if you ejaculate at least once a day, every day from age 15 to age 50, you reduce your risk of prostate and testicular cancer by up to 60 percent? It's a fact! So, whether you're in the mood or not is not an excuse, because what's 10 minutes a day, compared to the joy of reaching 50 and still having both testicles and a prostate that isn't the size of a small watermelon?
Anyway, Chris became, for me, a love symbol. I thought about him every day and, to use a term that girls like, I gushed. Not in the literal sense, but in the sense that thinking about him made me sigh, take deep breaths, and caused my heart rate to go up. I got dizzy, colours seemed brighter and I may have even found Jesus.
He was behind the couch the whole time!
March 16, 2001. I was sitting in the cafeteria, studying where I went wrong on the History exam that I just had, when Chris sat down next to me.
At this point, I had finally found out his name was Christopher Taylor. The last name didn't bother me so much, really. I would have thought it would have, but I guess I was finally over the indignity that Taylor Hanson had caused me to suffer. It was time, thus, for us to kiss and make up. Tongue's are optional.
"Hi." He said.
This was unusual, because usually Chris would just sit there and eat, until I said hello. It was nice to actually have him beat me to the greeting for a change.
"How are you doing, Christopher?" I asked, looking up. Now that I knew his name, I found it neat to use it sometimes.
"Fine, I guess." He said, then added, "I only had one cigarette today. I didn't feel like I needed anymore."
That still made me feel bad, but I had to be supportive, so I replied, "Well, that's good. Any progress is just great, Chris. I'm proud."
He nodded, then, looking down a bit, said, "Yeah...ummm...I don't think I needed anymore, because I just kept thinking about you. Knowing that you felt so bad about it, has really helped."
I smiled, "Well, I'm glad that I could help. You know how I feel about you, and it really hurts me to see you doing that to yourself."
Chris nodded and said, "Yeah, I know how you feel about it and about me. I've thought about that and a bunch of other stuff lately."
I closed my book and shrugged, "I'm flattered, Chris. Most people at Vanier seem to think I'm a weirdo. It's good to have you as a friend."
Chris nodded and moved closed me. Lowering his voice, he looked at me with those beautiful eyes of his and that sweet face and...well...everything that made me love him so much, in the physical sense, and said to me, "Yeah, I've tried to just be your friend, but sometimes I think that...I mean, nobody has ever told me that they loved me before and...Dave, sometimes I think about...umm...maybe, like, that I'm in love with you too."
You couldn't have stopped the smile that came across my face, if you'd have paid me. "You do?"
Chris backed away again and nodded, "Yeah. Everybody here are a bunch of bastards, but you're just so...I dunno...not like them. I guess I'm...I...yeah."
"Well, I'm very much in love with you, Chris." I said, seriously, "I don't want you to feel that you have to feel the same way."
Chris shook his head, "No, It's nothing like that. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. I...I love you. I do. I sometimes think about...ummm...like...ummm..."
His voice trailed off.
I shrugged, "It's okay. I have to get going now, though. I have french."
Chris nodded and whispered, "I'll miss you."
I smiled and replied, "I love you, Chris."
As I got up to leave, I heard him whisper back, "I love you too."