I'm listening to "Have U Ever" by fucking Brandy, a song I fell in love with simultaneoulsy as I gave my heart to Jonothan Lawless, the only person to which I ever gave it with that kind of fervor, bravery, and desperation.

It was during the Jon obsession that I learned words like "fervor", along with how to spell "obsession"- in a note I wrote to him confessing that I felt that way for him, I spelled it with a c.

Pain would be easier if I knew who I was hurting for. I think it may even be him....or Max. Or Mr. Ladd. The past. I am hurting for the unstoppable passage of time, and for the way I will never again lean against a locker staring at Jon's picture on the hallway wall, or watch Max from backstage at play practice and think that he was amazing, think that he could do anything. Sit in the town library and write feverishly in notebooks for every time I saw him, poetry when he touched me....the day he asked me to Dance Brazil, I was.....naive, he was only trying to save my life by spending time with me, but he accomplished his mission. I guess I've never owed anyone anything more than I owe Max- he still, to this day, is the only person I've ever known to actively try to help someone even if they had no reason to, even if it was just some awkward freshmen who made a habit of obsessing over older actor figures who would not readily be construed as incredibly attractive. But Max was attractive, in that simply one of the few genuinely altruistic people left in the world.

I guess I miss him. That must be what it is.

I am glad to be able to understand the difference between feeling an incredible privelige to know someone, an insatiable bond, even a platonic love, and being in love with them, now. I wish I had known that back then, when, had I been able to stop my freshman obsessing (stalking), I might have had more of a friendship with him than I did.

I was psychotic then, but I wasn't as dumb as I construe myself- I was attracted to Max as any woman would be attracted to her hero, and that's what he was to me, the only person on earth who cared when I needed someone to care, and I was in love with Jon for the same reason that he still holds my gaze whenever I chance meeting with him, the same reason my mind is still shocked that my knees don't buckle- he glowed. He was the first person for whom I had feelings such as I did for him, and that is not naive. It's beautiful.

I wish I were still that passionate about anything, sans the dangerously sick obsessive tendencies- I used to have the number on Jeremy Steenson's orthodonist file box memorized, and probably only forgot it fairly recently. Pathetic as some of my tendencies were, I suppose what's more pathetic than that is the fact that there is nothing anymore that reduces me to being so pathetic: I go about everything in my life with a certain pride that I would not have needed then, because my feelings were stronger than that.

I am far too proud.

I sent Max a message on ICQ yesterday night, and I went to check and he sent me six back. It makes me happy. His room was infested with lady bugs. I wrote back to him that lady bugs scare me, because they do. That's the sort of thing I wish I had the chance to talk to him about.
I think about now I'd give just about anything to relive my freshmen year. All the turmoil of that quintessential first year of high school. I need to be wrapped up in that sort of passion right now. I need it. I miss it. I loved it. I always say that 8th grade was the best year of my life, and it was, in many ways. But freshmen year......what a year. What an intensely wonderful year. I had a cast full of Our Town participatants that I wanted more than anything to model myself after, someone to love so desperately that it literally made me ache, my first experiences with drama, my first experiences with poetry, my first experiences with medication, and Mr. Ladd. I had Jill's house, and the smell of the woodstove and spiced meats running through it, to lose my catholic girl innocence in daily, and a rowdy, perfect band to play in that forever cemented my loyalty to it. I had counting cars with Serena and writing out max's name in stones with Emily. I had inspiration, and love, and trust. I had my freshmen year. I wish I still had my freshmen year.

I miss hugging Diana. I miss resenting Amy. I miss getting yelled at by Tre. I miss faking Mr. Ladd's signature and skipping classes. I miss group. I miss Adam and Scott making Judd laugh. I miss Judd. I miss Charlotte. I miss that list of people we didn't trust. I miss crying on Emily for the first time. I miss crying in front of Max in the library during study hall for the first time. I miss Miss McDaniel or however the hell her last name was spelled. I miss notes from chemistry class. I miss my locker.

I wish I could get it all back for a day. I can't. I think I've figured out what I'm hurting for.

My name is Linda, and I am older than I'd like to be. Don't ever neglect to think about how good you have it, especially when you think things are at their worst. On with it~