Chapel, again. This one is being presented by the married students. In an attempt to make a bridge to the single students (who form the majority here), the speaker here is addressing relationships and love. One of the premises seems to be that guys - even the good Christian boys here on campus - are primarily interested in the physical side of a relationship, with little or no concern for much else. I certainly hope this is an invalid assumption - for two reasons. First, if this is true, then I deeply grieve for the females of the world. Secondly, despite the positive (mainly ego-related) aspects of being really, really different from one's otherwise peers, there is a strong feeling of isolation and the fear that with differentness there is also weakness.
Oh, what am I to do? I saw Zelda online last night, and we talked a little. When I saw her online, I was hesitant to greet her. What with previous thoughts on instant messages vs. delayed, documented communication, I feared devaluating e-mail.
New thought: perhaps this is because an e-mail/letter is intended to be a packaged thought, read as a unit later, while conversation is not. A stronger attempt at identification is made through the letter, because the words are all the context provides. Conversation is almost too interactive. I can save a conversation to go over again later, but any repetition will be far less enjoyable than the first time. A letter, on the other hand, can be reexamined over and over in more or less the original context.
Ok, where was I? Ah, yes: our conversation. It was fairly shallow, but I am glad of a clearer picture of her life. Also, as seems to be the case every time we interact, my cloud of anxieties and self-doubt is a bit lighter, and I will e-mail without fear of exhibiting an overbearing eagerness. But, oh, I am torn! To think of her is to think of what I do not have. I do not know her nearly so well as I would like to. I do not have her company. I do not have her trust -- or at least I have no indication that I do. And, to be dramatic at the cost of temporarily redefining a word, I do not have her love. That is, I don't have any idea of what she thinks of me - how she values me. Am I that sweet guy that showed an interest in her this summer? Am I the cute but pitiable little troll that thought he might have a shot at her? Am I the dashing young new neighbor she admires but is afraid of disappointing? Perhaps I am the rather annoying jerk to whom she regrets having given her online identity that unfortunately enough must be humored because her mother is a friend to mine. Or maybe I am the intelligent but rather unattractive guy who's nice enough but not to be seen with in public. Incidentally, I shaved the other day. People told me I looked much better. Good, even. And, arrogant though it sounds, I thought so, too, looking in the mirror.
So, what am I? What an original question, Kevin. We have never been asked that, before. Well, at least in this particular instance it is a different question. What am I to her? In her mind? Ooh. Am I going to censor this out? Lots of good stuff, here. Probably I will not. I suspect Zelda hasn't seen any of this, and probably won't for some time.
There's another issue. One of my professors, upon hearing my story, was a bit concerned when he learned that she has access to the online journals. I trust his judgement, and followed his recommendation in making less available a certain segment. Now, I think I will set them up again. If she saw the journals before I took them down, then their absence is merely a discouragement to others. If she looked after I took them down, then she is not likely to look again - unless she is following along and, on reading this, decides to look back. And if she hasn't read at all, I don't think she will anytime soon. In any case, as I reread them last night, I decided that I'm ok with her reading them. Originally, I was thinking that it would be best if she not read my "Oh, the pain! It hurts! I am so miserable!" rantings; she might feel bad about being a contributory factor. Haha. Actually I would say "being the cause", because that is what I fear she might think. But, realizing that she may some time read this, I toned it down to a more objective take. Kevin, you're either really considerate or positively obsessive. Ha. But in any case, the entries were not nearly so woeful as I'd imagined, and there was plenty of good stuff crammed in as well. Besides, sharing the long story is a lot easier when I can give a URL. Recently I zipped the critical HTML's to give to someone.
I suppose I might ask myself why I feel the need to share this little saga with everyone. Ah; I know. When someone wants to know "what's new" or "what's happening", it's pretty much the answer. And this thing is significant enough in my own mind that I somehow can't stand to summarize or abbreviate it.