As I delve deeper into this whole blog thing (apropos of nothing, I am already behind the curve, since Tumblr is reportedly now the place to be), I will share more of what gives rise to my own little screams and strangled cries.
Today's item On The List Of Things That Show How Fucked Up Jackson Is? Ah, The Inappropriate Crush Girl. (Cue John Lennon: "A girl . . . [inward sigh]")
I had a dream about her recently, which sort of triggered this post. She was standing on the corner near my apartment wearing a floral, very spring-ish dress. (Which didn't strike me as odd in the dream, but would in real life -- she's not really a floral, spring-ish dress kinda chick. But I digress.) She was standing with her back to me, and turned her head as I walked up. I don't remember the details of the conversation (dammit, dammit, dammit!), but she smiled at the end, and gave me the friendly hug/cheek kiss.
I call her the ICG because, well, I have an IC on her (I am, after all, married to someone other than her) and have had one on her since, oh 1998 or so. Short version -- she was a new-ish lawyer at my then firm, and we worked together on a couple of cases and some charitable projects that the firm was invovled in. She was and is, to my eye, utterly beautiful -- in looks and personality. I swear to God, the first time I really noticed her, a line of a poem I hadn't thought of since high school lept into my mind (thanks, Lord Byron):
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meets in her aspect and her eyes.
Anyway, one day early on, she makes some comment to me about my birthplace listed in the Martindale Hubbell directory, and how she went to high school in the Ancestral Homeland (her father's job took the family to all sorts of fun places for 3-4 years at a time). We exchanged emails, hung out in the same group, shared books, etc. I fell. Badly.
She, apparently, did not fall. I made the mistake of making my feelings known after 2 years, and she was horrified. We eventually got to the point where we were friends again, but it was obviously never the same. I left that firm a little while later, and she did, too. Then I moved a year or so ago.
It used to be so hard not to email her when I saw or heard things that reminded me of her. A mention in the press of the company with the unusual product that was the subject of a trade secrets case we handled for them a few years ago. The results of the Harvard/Yale game (she is an Ivy League grad). Who am I kidding? It is still difficult.
Anyway, I try not to obssess about her too much, but (duh) am not always successful. (As hard as it is to believe, though, I am much better at it now.) And every so often, I will see someone who reminds me of her -- a event, for better or worse, which is more common in the new place than the old -- and I will wallow in the memories.
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