FCKMA

8 - I Sort Of Fix Everything

Christmas Day began nearing closer, and my mother had sprouted the idea of hosting something of a cocktail party celebration on Christmas Eve. I was, of course, reluctant to the idea, but I had little to no say in anything that occurred under my parents’ roof.

After my little early morning chat with Julien, I couldn’t help but wonder if things would ever go back to normal between us. I was sure that he would be more than happy to dump the childhood friend who was incapable of letting go of him, but I just wanted him to regard me normally –not with the proverbial wall people tended to put up while encountering someone uncomfortable.

I was indubitably lost in thought all morning, even long after the O’Reillys’ had left. I didn’t leave my bedroom. I had locked the door the second I returned upstairs at around three thirty that morning and I hadn’t slept for a second. My mind was wide awake, configuring any possible scenario that involved Julien’s reaction to what I said. There also stood the very real possibility that he had been too tired to even regard a word that came out of my mouth. Each fantasy was more vivid than the next, causing me to assume each one of them was a memory instead of something fictional my brain had concocted.

As somebody who was so delusional that she actually welcomed hallucinations, I was finally greeted by a real one, that was also the one vision I had yearned to forget. My high school graduation.

A person should be nothing but ninety percent happy and ten percent nostalgic on the night of their high school graduation. Finally free from the gates that entrapped us for four years, one should be ecstatic. I, however, was never like most people. How many others could say they happily created false scenarios in their minds for a large majority of their day and believed them? I was seated in the fourth row of graduates, with both my legs bouncing in anxiety. The second my principal called out, “Alison Donnell”, I was faced with a blur. I didn’t clearly remember the smiling faces of my principal and the supporting school staff. I hardly knew their names or saw their faces in my four years there. I practically ran off the stage, away from the many unsettling pairs of eyes upon me.

This memory was fuzzy and orange, almost like a vague recollection of an old dream. The faces weren’t clear, nor were the transitions. I found myself in front of my friend Julien. ‘Can I talk to you for a second?’ My voice sounded foreign, even to me. I don’t remember if it was I who took his arm, or he mine, but one of us was leading the other to an area separated from the crowds of families.

He might have asked about an after party. The details weren’t clear; it was only the conversation and his face that I remembered. I didn’t say much, only somehow convincing him to listen to me for a moment. He was happy. His attention was on that of his friends, hoping to hear something regarding food or a party.

‘Julien!’ I had cried, desperate to get the seven year old pain off my chest. ‘I really need to talk to you.’ He had looked at me, almost frightened of me. I wasn’t sure if it had been the tone of my voice or the look on my face, but he knew I was serious.

‘There is a very real chance that I won’t see you again after tonight, so I just wanted to say goodbye, I guess.’ My voice had quivered. Julien had laughed. He was so innocent, so free of this huge bomb I was about to drop. I had debated if it was really worth dropping.

‘There’s still a whole party afterwards,’ Julien had said. I wanted to stomp my foot. He wasn’t going to talk to me at that party and he knew it. I didn’t even know what I was doing just then, but I did it regardless.

‘I love you,’ I had said. There. The words that had been on my tongue for seven years had finally been said. Julien was too happy to realize how I implied them. ‘I love you too, Ally. You’ve been a great friend for a long time,’ he said.