Funny thing about the obvious-- sometimes it only slaps you in the face in that dead zone between the past and the present. I had the same sense of impending doom with a double-scoop of ambivalence as Diomedes (a close personal friend who has regrettably chosen to spend his time in Poughkeepsie.) That Friday the 13th was a strange time for me, and as I sat on the phone with the mine and Diomedes' mutual male gossip queen friend, I was filled with the very same excited guilt. As you might have imagined, I wanted her too. In fact, I believed that this girl might have been the solution to at least a handful of my scads of problems.
But it's funny how the space of two school years and an entirely new life can put the past in perspective. This girl, of whom Diomedes, myself, and our ill-fated friend were all enamoured turned out to be an entirely different person from who we all thought she was. Looking back at this node now, a crystalline memory of how things were, I know the truth.

Not too long ago I found out that the very night that this lovely young woman suggested that she and my friend needed to "spend some time apart to test their relationship," she got somewhat inebriated and proceeded to fornicate with two gentlemen who were a good six years older than her and whom she hadn't even met before that night.

But it gets better. The following spring, another close friend of mine confessed to this girl that he was in love with her. It is important to bear in mind that he had been a loyal friend to her since before I had even known him, and that he couldn't keep the feeling inside of him any longer. She then proceeded to hook up with him for an hour or so and then push him away in disgust.

For weeks and months she would neither talk to him nor acknowledge his existence. A few weeks before graduation (a humble ceremony coupled with a well-rehearsed speech by a well-paid speaker), this very same girl approached my very same friend, a smile cracking her porcelain face. She hugged him, and asked him to carry packages.

That summer after junior year in high school, she was beautiful and perfect. I always beg for the truth, but I sometimes wish I could live in the blissful lie of Friday July 13, 2001.