Journaling Schizophrenic

Entry eighteen: Sailor's Eyes

Happy Easter! May your hearts be full of God's love and your bellies full of chocolate :P

In case you get confused, killing off Errol (the same person who wrote in that part about Rick Astley) is a Toronto NaNoWriMo tradition... Oh and don't get mad at Sammi just yet...she still has to work through some things.

Enjoy!

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Entry eighteen:

Sailor's Eyes.  Today Gavin took me for a walk around the block. It was a nice day, the birds were still singing and the leaves were painting the street with their many colours. We had good conversation too.

Somehow we ended up talking about NaNoWriMo again. He asked me if I'd ever resorted to killing off Errol and I admitted that he'd died of dehydration after offering the last of his water to the poor turtle. He told me Errol had been a general in his novel who stupidly led his untrained soldiers into battle with a pack of Huns. Honestly, that just made me a little suspicious of his movie preferences because he just described the scenario in Mulan; if Mulan hadn’t felt there were any men “worth fighting for” anyway.

I find it very ironic that at the end of our walk we walked by a newspaper stand and noticed a big picture of Errol on the front cover. I would have thought it was just another rich Asian guy except the picture was just a little gruesome and the headline was ERROL IS REALLY DEAD! I immediately pulled out my toonie and bought a copy of the paper. I know that money was supposed to go towards a pen, but this is definitely more worth it. On the picture his face is all purple and there’s something shiny and colourful in his mouth; don’t they usually use pictures from when the person was alive so as not to alarm the public or relay classified information? Here's the article:

Errol, who was known to some as Elumir died a tragic death late last night. He was attending a NaNoWriMo event and was surrounded by a roomful of fellow crazy people who thought they could write a book in a month. He had been putting star stickers into his mouth and no one paid any attention when his airway became obstructed and he started choking. “We all just assumed he was joking” said one witness who had admitted to killing off Errol in a number of ways in her tentative novels. Many others in the room also admitted to discussing Errol’s death in various violent ways such as getting stung by a hundred bees, having a typewriter fall on his head, being killed off by a crazy mage and ironically drowning in the Dead Sea.

Police are still baffled as to why Errol would associate with these people and why on earth he would put star stickers in his mouth. There are suspicions of foul play. Any suggestions would be appreciated. Call 1800-222-TIPS with any information on this case.

I can’t say I’m overly surprised, but the way this was written was quite rude. I don’t know if I’m biased for saying this, but we aren’t all crazy. It’s not very nice of the reporter to make such assumptions and then write her article so disrespectfully. Gavin agrees. It really is a shame though, Errol was quite amusing, and I guess it would be a little wrong to keep killing him off now that he’s really dead. I guess I’ll have to find a new way to fill up my word count.

But going back to our walk, we talked about a bunch of other stuff like hair, music and what we want out of life. You know, normal ‘getting to know you’ conversation topics. He seems to have good taste in both style and music. I learned that he wants to become a writer when he graduates from college, which is kind of an obvious thing considering he has been a NaNoWriMo participant for seven of his eighteen years, and won six of those years, each time increasing his word count quite considerably. His dedication really makes me a little envious. I always slack off at first and then end up struggling just to catch up during the last week of the month.

It was very shocking though what I found out today. This hot guy happened to walk by us and I commented on how good looking he was. I was quite surprised when Gavin replied with an “I agree.”

When I looked at him questioningly, he sheepishly said, “I guess I should explain,”

“Explain what?” I asked, still confused.

“Well, first just promise that what I tell you now won’t affect our relationship in any way, ok?” he started, making me worried.

“What are you talking about?”

“Promise.” He pleaded.

“Promise what? Just tell me.” I tried.

“Nuh-uh. You’re not getting off that easy. I’ll tell you as soon as you promise you’ll still be my girlfriend when I tell you.” He said adamantly, seeming almost afraid.

“I’m your girlfriend?” I asked surprised, “Okay, I promise.” I agreed, because he had caught me off guard.

“Of course you’re my girlfriend, why else would we be hanging out so often, not to mention you don’t hold hands and kiss boys who you’re just friends with, do you?” he asked, clearly trying to distract me.

“No, I don’t. I just wanted to make sure since I wasn’t sure if it was official or not. I’m glad you think it goes without saying, but for all I know you could be into friends with benefits.”

He mumbled something that sounded like “You’re close”, but it didn’t seem all that important at the time.

“So what exactly is it that you have to explain now that we’ve gotten all of this sorted out?” I asked him, starting to get worried again.

“Let’s get some pastries and sit down first.” He requested as he pulled me into a bakery.

“Fine. But you’re buying.” I grumbled as we lined up and he picked out a couple slices of pie.

“So now will you tell me?” I demanded as we sat down.

“Alright, now I’ll tell you. Do you want the apple or cherry pie?”

“Cherry please, now stop stalling.”

“Fine. I’m bisexual.” He finally admitted in a way that could be considered bluntly if he hadn’t dragged it out so long.

As I tried to digest that, Marny helped me out by prompting me to say, “Well you’re with me now, so why should it matter who you’ve dated in the past, or will date in the future?”

“So you honestly don’t mind?” He asked, cheering up considerably, and completely ignoring the part of my comment that could’ve been taken as “I don’t think we’ll last.” Not that that was what I was trying to imply at all, but I’m just saying it could’ve been interpreted that way.

“Nope, but this cherry pie is delicious.” I said, quickly changing the subject. And apart from the news about Errol, the rest of our walk was lovely including the kiss he gave me on my doorstep before he walked back to his car.

The problem you see, is that I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I really like Gavin, but you know how my parents raised me when they still cared. And I know people assume they have liberal points of views considering their jobs, but they raised us very strictly in the Catholic traditions. I know some of the rules are really over the top, but it’s been engrained on my mind that couples are supposed to be Boy and Girl. I mean he is with me right now, and that’s “acceptable”, but what Marny made me say doesn’t reflect the way I feel, though I really, really don’t want to be so prejudiced.

I don’t know what to do. Help me!