Annie Who I Love.

"In my blog, I can turn friendship into meta-friendship, remind people of their importance or their resonance simply by positioning them in my narrative. I've said things in my blog, just like I'm saying things here, that I could maybe never say to Haviland's face, because that kind of thing scares me, emotions--the raw kind--that you say to people...I like words on pages, I like a moment to decide, and then, I like a record of it. "

This probably makes no sense to you at all, but give it time and it will become more clear. Just read on:

To Annie who has brought me here and won't let me leave. To Annie who I love and will always love, even if she leaves me in a canoe alone.

Introduction:

My undying devotion to her began when we worked at a summer camp in nowhere michigan. Those nine and half weeks spent with her are weeks which I never want to forget. So while the memories are fresh but the feelings less raw I will start to explain how those nine weeks changed me forever.

Annie is someone who unlike the other relationships in my life, I will never try to explain or justify, not to myself and most def not to any other fucktard. If you take me into your life, you must take her and all that she means to me. I will never be ashamed or embarrassed of her. To do so would be to destroy the most beautiful part of myself, the part she helped create.

No, Annie is not my girlfriend, we don't meet for lunch, talk on the phone or even send e-mails anymore. But once for a very few months this summer, I saw her everyday. Annie was everything there was to see and nothing was left of me. I would wake up in the morning, get dressed alone. I would fall asleep in my bed alone. But every moment in between those times was devoted to us, just Annie and I. We lived each other’s lives completely intertwined. There was no disconnect between us.

It was Annie who taught me that saying things can be really hard, so I should just write them down. This simple skill she taught me has changed me forever. And now as I begin this quest to document all that has changed in the last six months of my life I must thank her.

Chapter 1: The Day I Almost Died Inside.

I knew exactly where it was, in her backpack! That fucking cunt ass. I hate her. “Annie I HATE YOU!!! I HATE YOU” This screams in my head, louder and louder until I can’t hear a thing. My anger had overpowered me, my heart was pounding and felt as if it would jump out of my chest at any moment. I pressed my hands to my eyes, the tears pouring down my face. The ugly sobs came slipping out of my mouth making me feel embarrassed and thankful no one was around. My head was throbbing and my feet were racing toward her cabin.

I didn’t want an explanation from her, I just wanted to hurt her. I wanted to hurt her so bad, so she could experience this pain too. I wanted to see her cry and know that I had done that to her. Because she was causing me more pain then I ever thought was possible.

In retrospect, I was just angry and foolish. I let my rage get the best of me and threw a temper tantrum which destroyed one of the most beautiful thing I had ever made. I don’t regret it now, because I’ve learned about the powerful rage which I can posses. Learned what can cause it and maybe I’ve started to learn how to prevent it. But my actions were one of passion and I do wish I could properly apologize to Annie.

Throughout our summer together Annie and I had kept a notebook. A purple bindernotebook thingy which had “top secret” written on the first page to guard against intruders. It was inconspicuous on the outside but the pages inside were filled with our deepest confessions. Annie and I use to write back and forth in that notebook. Love notes, poems, revolutions, jokes, pictures…. anything at all. It was a dialogue with each other sometimes, and other times it was just a good place to vent. I might write about my fears and she might write about her last girlfriend Anna. We loved that notebook and everything that it represented. It meant that we were each other’s #1 person and had something secret and special. A little gift we passed back and forth everyday. Each time I gave Annie the notebook I was telling her that I loved her and needed her. And each time she gave the notebook back, she was telling me the same thing. This notebook was more then just words on a page, it was a display of love and devotion. Had either one of us been more conventional, the notebook would have been filled with love notes. Or more likely it wouldn’t have been a notebook at all, perhaps mix tapes filled with mushy love songs. But neither of us would have cared as much for that. We didn’t want conventional displays of love, cause our love is anything but.

On that day I was filled with rage, and destroyed our notebook. I tore in into little pieces of paper and left them on her bed, for her to discover. I had hoped she cried when she saw all the broken pieces of our love. But now thinking about it, I begin to cry. I will never ask her for forgiveness now even though I know she’d give it to me. I don’t want forgiveness, I want our notebook back.