Jean Vests Never Looked So Good

And I sit, captivated in the timeless knowledge of My So-Called Life, obviously one of the greatest tributes to teenagers in the history of film (aside from the 18 year old death-obsessed lover, Harold, from one of my personal favorite movies, Harold and Maude). In episode one of MSCL, Angela’s imagination thrusts her into the arms of Jared Leto- finding that when in reality she is thrust into said arms, the dream isn’t so sweet… that is, until she’s left wanting more and at just the perfect second…… he ruins everything.

Of course, anyone who has ever been a teenager can relate to some element of this show, and here I am, late night analysis of how I feel in my own relationship matrix.

A Voice from the not to distant past come back to evoke me. It feels so good to hear him, and the idea of actually seeing him again makes all the feelings we shared rush to my cheeks, make my heart beat faster (and to the beats of Manu Chao), and for a moment forget how he made me felt.

Did you know that it’s actually possible to die of heartbreak? Apparently, you can. Though I was nowhere near death, I definitely felt something harsh and deep and painful inside of me. Heartlessly giving yourself to someone else literally minutes after pleading comfort and exclaiming love for another just doesn’t make sense. Allowing someone to stop her world to be near you, followed only by your unjustified and unexplained emotional absence just doesn’t make sense. The way you treat the people you claim to love just doesn’t make sense. Confusion, ouch.

But God, I get drunk of the sound of his voice.

I hate being so hung up about someone else, especially someone who is more concerned with talking than listening (or so it often seems), but fuck. I’ve also never been with someone who has made me feel so alive and light and beautiful and full of love. When I talk to him it makes me want to take the world and squeeze out everything it has to offer into the laps of my friends and me. He makes me want to take pictures of rivers and old people and ask people what their tattoos mean to them. Is the world too big to dwell on the little things like who hurt who or whether this person, so far away, is worth pursuing? I just feel so small… and the world is so big… and….fuck…. if you know what to do (and obviously you know who you are)…help me out.

I just want a friend like Ricky. Angela is so lucky.