Dear Nobody (9 page)

Dear Nobody,

I got a job to pay for all this going out—at McDonalds. FUCK that place. I hate it there. I dropped out of school, so now I work a forty-hour work-week. Eight hours a day. My boss is a real asshole. Fuck him, too. He's this bitchy little queer that's always screaming at me until I cry. Fuck HIM. Or “her.” Whatever IT wants to be—fuck it either way. Anyhow, I haven't shown up for the past two days. I'll get suspended if I do it one more time.

FUCK IT.

I also got in a fight with Geoff, and we haven't talked for forever. I mean we got in this huge fight. BIG. And he's the only one with the car. Vickie
had
a car—but it broke down one night. Yeah, that was fun.
NOT!
Anyway, maybe I'll call him and apologize. Now that I have this job and all, I want to go out and spend money. But I don't want to do it alone. I'll call him tomorrow—maybe. I'll definitely call Vickie though; maybe she can hang out with me…

Dear Nobody,

Geoff and I kind of made-up today. I was the one that called him—I wonder if he feels how I do? I'm sure I love him—in some fucked-up way. I just feel like he can't really be honest with me. I'm honest with him (for the most part). It's just so hard not to fuck up. See, I used to get so pissed at him for the little things he did, but now it's like I spend more time apologizing to HIM. And it's like he always already knows when I've done something stupid, like he's got fucking sonar or something.

I know that he and his friends think I'm some crazy, slutty, dirty bitch. But I really don't care that much because they really are assholes. But I'd give anything to see what Geoff says or does if they talk shit about me. He probably fucking goes right along with them. I don't know, maybe I deserve it.

Oh shit, I miss him. I haven't seen him for a while, and on the phone, I'm always the one talking, and he just plays his music and kinda ignores me. Most times, I'm not even sure he's listening to me. Maybe he likes me for something besides the person I am? I'm not sure.

God I love him. It's just like every once in a while, he'll say something really brilliant and pretty, and I'll think of how amazing he is.

Then he'll say something really stupid and I'll think he's fucking retarded.

Dear Nobody,

I got my first paycheck and spent most of it partying with Geoff. The rest I lent to him (or his friends). Last night, he didn't have enough money to get fucked up with because he'd just bought a new car—so I helped him out a little—like I'd been doing ALL WEEK. Then, even after my immense generosity, Geoff asked to borrow MORE money. I told him, no, that I still wanted to hold on to some of my money, but that I would at least give him gas money. THAT wasn't enough for him. He got a really smart-ass tone with me—and began to raise his voice. It was embarrassing because he was yelling at me in his garage and his folks were home.

All I wanted was to have a good night.

So I told him that, but stuck to my decision about not lending him any more money. Well, he flipped the fuck out! I mean BLEW UP! He suddenly screamed at me, “YOU SELFISH, SPOILED LITTLE BITCH!” My jaw dropped. Selfish?
SELFISH?
I had given him everything he asked for, but just this once, I deny him—and this is the gratitude I get?

Geoff said he was taking me home. I cried all the way in the car—while he yelled at me. Then I thought, “Fuck sitting here listening to all this bullshit,” about me being a “selfish greedy little bitch” because I wouldn't give him any more of MY money—that I had worked so hard to earn. I started to yell right back at him (not wanting to lose any more of my pride). Geoff pulled the car over, and told me to get out and walk home. We were miles from my house—at night—and I had no idea where I was, or how to get home.

So I refused to get out of the car. I buckled my seat belt to emphasize the fact that I would NOT be getting out, until I was safely in my own driveway. Geoff responded with more yelling—FEROCIOUS yelling. Then, being the gentleman he is, he got out of the car, walked over to the passenger side and opened my door screaming,
“IF YOU DON'T GET OUT, I'LL GET YOU OUT MYSELF!”

I clenched my fists at my sides, ready to strike if he so much as touched me. I'll bet
he
knew
not to touch me—because he didn't. He just stood there and kept screaming at me. I screamed back, telling him how I had given him virtually everything he had ever asked me for.

Geoff screamed at me the entire way home. By the time we arrived at my house my hysterical crying matched his screaming. I gave him $2 for gas money for taking me home. We didn't speak for a few days after that.

Dear Nobody,

Last night Vickie and I drove to Sam's house to wait for Geoff, planning to all go out together after he arrived. I figured it'd be a shade awkward, but guessed he and I would basically just ignore each other. My dreamlike optimism led me to hope Geoff might even apologize, or at the very least just be nice to me.
Dream on, Mary Rose!

When he arrived (half an hour late), he started frantically screaming at me again. He even yelled at Vickie. He gave me the money he owed me—which was $5 short—and started screaming even louder when I mentioned that he had shorted me. Then, as we went to get into the car, he screamed at me and Vickie that we could not go with him and Sam. She was as shocked and appalled as I was, so we finally got in her car and left. We went back to my house and watched a movie.

After that I went to my grandparents for the weekend.

Now it's Monday and I haven't spoken to Vickie since Friday night, and she owes me $30. I hope to talk to her today. I have off today (and tomorrow). I was hoping she'd have off this afternoon too, but she's working till around four. I'll call her then to get my money and see if she wants to do anything.

Dear Nobody,

Mom said Traci called me when I was in rehab. I haven't talked to her for a while. I should call her. Since getting back, I've been wanting to hang out with her again—even though there
has
been some drama—we are still pretty good friends. No matter what rumors are going around, I will always love her, because Traci knows all the worst shit about me, and she doesn't care.

Should I ask her what REALLY happened? Get HER side of the story?

It's probably just a rumor; but here's what I heard happened. I heard that while I was in rehab, Traci got drunk with Geoff—and she kissed him. I talked to Geoff about it, and he said he didn't do anything. He said he just ignored her. I don't really think he would have kissed her—she's the one who kissed him first. I just wonder if he kissed back or not? He says he didn't.

I'm not going to stop hanging out with Traci because of a stupid rumor, but maybe I should trust her as far as I could spit on her.

Oh, well.

This friend of mine, Pete, called Traci a Mary-Rose-Wannabe. Pete's really cool. We get along okay except his mom hates me—almost everyone's parents do. He's the sweetest guy that I know right now. Maybe if Geoff and I break up again, I'll ask Pete to the movies.

Geoff told me he was sick of us always arguing when we are together. I've punched him in the face during some arguments—but only when I'm drunk. It really hurts his feelings. Thankfully he's never hit me back, and never would. Since getting back together, I've stopped getting drunk enough to punch him, but we still argue a lot.

He can be really thoughtless.

Last night on the phone, he told me he wanted me to leave him alone and forget about him. He said that he didn't care either way if he ever saw or talked to me again. And that really, really hurt.

I wonder how he'd feel if I died tonight? Or tomorrow?

Dear Nobody,

Man, I bet I know why Geoff acted so extra-mean the last time I talked to him. And I have a feeling that Vickie may have played a big part in it, too. See I talked shit about Geoff to Vickie, and Vickie must have told Sam, and Sam must have told Geoff. I know Vickie can't stand me. She's really only nice to me when she needs money. She's a real miserable bitch when she doesn't need anything. It's just that I don't have anyone else to hang out with, except for maybe a few other girls that I could start to chill with (they don't just USE me, or treat me like SHIT).

Well, I'll have to get my money back before I ask Vickie if she told Sam to tell Geoff everything I said.

FUCK THEM!

I don't even really care all that much anymore. If they want to be my real friends, they'll prove themselves, as I've tried to for them. Loyalty is all I really want. Those kids aren't even much fun (but we all need someone to pal around with). I hate that fact.

Well, I only worked one day this week. I caught some sort of stomach virus and have been puking my ass out for the past two days. I feel better, but not completely. I'm supposed to go to some party tonight. Ha—a drinking party—my stomach will LOVE that. Anyway, tomorrow is Halloween, so after I go to this party tonight with this one girl, I'll probably do something tomorrow night with another girl, and maybe the girl from tonight.

Well, I smell and look like shit, so I have to go take a shower and all that shit. Tomorrow I have to get some of my shit back from this one girl, pick up my paycheck, and then I have to get my thirty bucks back from Vickie.

Dammit, man.

I've got so much shit to do, but I'm so fucking bored.

Dear Nobody,

Geoff won't talk to me.

I hate that time during fights between “friends” when nothing has been resolved yet, and it's too soon to find out if anything can be reconciled. Especially when it's one of those fights that could mean “The End.” You see, I've noticed that my different friends get into fights for different reasons. That's why we've all (most of us) got back-up friends—to keep us occupied during the intervals between the spats with our “real” friends.

Even so, the time between is SO BORING. Maybe that's even the reason why WE DO reconcile—the feeling of knowing that right now we could be out, doing something worthwhile, something we'd like to do—but instead are driven out of desperation to spend time with these alternative people. This desperation is what drives us back to our old “friends”—clad with apologies and nervous smiles—no one wanting to come across as being grandiose, yet no one even conceiving the idea of being too humble. That is a far worse travesty than losing the friend (which is why it all started in the first place).

And different friends have different battles, and different “calming periods” that come after these battles. For example, alcoholic “friends” usually stop talking for a day or two, to weeks, sometimes because of things said or done while sloppy drunk. Sometimes over fist fights. Usually these differences are made up by the next time a person wants to get drunk, and has no drinking partner.

Then of course there's always getting extremely drunk and calling from a payphone covered with the stench of liquor and vomit on our shoes, pouring our heart (and apologies) out.

Potheads just forget these altercations. Which is ironic because usually they can go the longest without talking to who they used to, simply because potheads will smoke a joint with just about anybody, anywhere.

Coke-heads are always fighting, or arguing, yet move in and out of conversations so quickly that it's almost barely noticeable. They do have their problems too, but usually money is at the root of it.

Heroin is a weird one. It means so many different things to different people. The people that use it usually not only need it, but also need some of the people that come along with it. It's not really something you can do continuously all by yourself. You almost always need other people to keep it going.

Either way, whatever group, drug, fight, or grudge, I hate the waiting in between. It SUCKS!