We Love You So

So I still have not seen The Wild Things directed by Spike Jonze ( I almost typed in Spike Lee and I realized how funny that adaptation would look with Lee's direction). I haven't seen it for the same reason I haven't seen Precious (aka Push), The Men Who Stare at Goats, and any other books adapted to a movie. When you work at a bookstore it is sort of disheartening to see people come in looking for a book because they saw the trailer for the movie. People don't seem to realize that Push was out for like 10 years, and don't even get me started on Where the Wild Things Are.

For this reason I don't watch movies adapted from a book until long after they have come out. Or I don't read the book until long after the movie has come out. I didn't really have to do that for where the wild things are, because it's been out forever and it takes minutes to read. But there is something so interesting about the movie, and I had to stop myself from saying 'fuck it' and buying a ticket to go see it.

I think what Spike Jonze captures so well, is the wildness that encompasses being boy. I mean girls have it too, but if you ever watched two young boys act out some pirate fantasy you realize it is a different sort of wildness. One you wish you could hold on to forever.

I have listened to the score by Carter Burwell a million times, and I get teary eyed every time I hear it. Especially during the We Love You So track. It's then that you realize the real tragedy of childhood is how quickly it escapes you. How, sooner or later who will encounter the real world, and all of the imaginary friends from you youth will disappear.

My nephew died a year ago. He was a year and 2 months. He slept with a blanket and could eat enough for two babies. And I loved him, even though I didn't really know him. And there was something about this movie depicting this incredibly wild boy that resonates with me. That makes me sad and yearn for the nephew I will never have in the one I lost. And I hate that he won't be able to be a boy. I hate that he won't be able to sail the Indian Ocean or Slay Dragons. Or relish in the sound of toy trains hitting each other. That he won't be able to be a boy. Any boy.

And it's been difficult this last couple of weeks because for some reason he invades my thoughts. I wonder who he could have been, what his voice would sound like, what his face would look like when he is sad, happy, and full of life. And honestly outside of my family and Marie no one knows about the loss that we are still dealing with. And it's hard because at work I am pleasant and happy and sweet. And I don't let whatever is going on inside my head affect my interactions with my co-workers.

But it doesn't mean that I don't want to confide in someone from time to time. Especially during days where the grief seems unbearable. I remember being overcome with emotions one afternoon for no reason at all. I was angry at life and at death and in the god I sometimes believe in. I barely got myself together before work, and no one asked me how I was doing because I am a pro a faking it. But other times I physically feel myself reaching out to people for comfort, but I pull back before revealing to much. Grief is a weird thing.

A week or two ago I was asked to set up a promo table at work. This meant that I had to go in our receiving area, filled with 50 or so unopened boxes, and look for the items designated for that table. I am short and I weigh like 110lbs. I am strong for my size but good god these boxes were heavy. My manager told me to be careful while I was going through them because the boxes (stacked on top of one another) have a tendency of toppling over. When she left McAbs stopped by to see what I was doing. The receiving area is way in the back of the store so we didn't have to worry about a manager stopping us. I told him that I had to dig through most of these boxes and he sort of laughed like "they made you, of all people do this". I asked him, in a joking way, if he could listen out for me if he was back here. Just in case a box came crashing down, I wanted to make sure someone knew I was back there.

He shrugged his shoulders and said "sure whatever" and went back to work. Surprisingly for the next three hours McAbs stopped by every 30 minutes to make sure I was okay. No lie. And when he heard some random boxes fall near where I was working he called my name from the hallway to make sure I was okay. But I didn't hear him at first, and the next thing I heard was "Beckett, Beckett, Beckett" followed by him running down the hall and into the receiving room. I was sweating and tired and kneeling near another box, and when I turned to him he looked angry:
"I called your name, you didn't answer. I thought you fell or something"
"Sorry?"
"It's cool, just answer next time okay, you freaked me out"

That night he asked me if I wanted a ride home. This was after I had that very explicit dream about him, and I was about to say no but my feet hurt, and my hands hurt and I wasn't looking forward to walking home by myself. I wasn't looking forward to crying down the street, because I had a tendency of doing that too when I get sad. So I said yeah because I knew if he drove me home I would be distracted from my own thoughts. He would be the distraction I needed.

I waited until he changed his clothes and then we headed to his car. I mentioned half way that my feet were killing me because I never wear socks with my flats and I was doing a lot of climbing and walking and blah blah blah. "I could carry you" he interrupted. But he was so freaking serious I hit him in the arm and brushed him off. We were crossing the street when my shoe literally fell off, and i told him to wait and he looked back to see me hobbling towards him with my shoes in hand.

"Come here" he said, and when I made it to the curb he looked amused (similar to the dream much). "Let me carry you to the car. We will get there a lot faster". I looked at him like he was crazy but then I looked at my feet and I thought "well..." but I still said no, and I said something along the lines of "it's kind of inappropriate". But he really wanted to carry me to the car, and I really didn't feel like walking and through this we agreed that a piggy back ride is harmless. And so he bent down and let me hop on his back and he carried me to his car.

A piggyback ride is not harmless. Especially when you are attracted to the person giving you one. I realized that my boobs were pressed against his back, and that I naturally wanted to place my head on his shoulder. But that would be too much physical contact and he has a girlfriend, and I would potentially kiss his neck or something. So I leaned back as much as I could so that my boobs weren't touching his back and so my mouth didn't find it's way to his neck. This made for an uncomfortable piggy back ride on his part, because I was essentially choking him because I couldn't relax. He would say "you are choking me" "Sorry" "still choking me". We almost made it to the car without any problem but I didn't know what to do with my legs, and I refused, REFUSED to wrap them around him ,so I awkwardly slid down back to the ground.

"I feel like I need a cigarette" he said, with the most inappropriate smile I have ever seen. "But you don't smoke" "I know".

Of course after he dropped me off at my aunt's (in his car) I regretted the whole thing. Because it was an innocent exchange that felt all kinds of dirty. He has a gf. He has a life outside of the bookstore. And there I am crushing on him hardcore to the point where innocent piggyback rides seem wrong. But I discarded that feeling because damn it he has nice muscles.

However the next night I was not in the best of moods. Despite my encounter with McAbs, I woke up from a nap feeling that sense of grief that has a way of creeping up on me. It doesn't help that We Love You So is a constant song playing in my ear. And as I headed into work, where we are surrounded by images of Where The Wild Things Are, all I could think of was Danny and how he won't ever get to grow up. And sometimes at night I pray that wherever he is, that he is allowed to be a boy. He is allowed to be so much more than a person who never got to grow and love life. And eat doughnuts or see Ghostbusters, or hear AC/DC. And I hope that there are things or people telling him how much he is loved. That he was loved. And that I'm sorry he had to leave so soon, but that we think of him often. And if we could go back, we would in a heartbeat, and hold on so tight until ...

And I just felt horrible at work. Because I didn't have anyone to go to about any of this. I cried during my break, and I tried to stay away from as much people as I could. And there are so many new faces at work that I felt lost. And around 6, I knew that he was at work and I wanted to just go him and be like "my day sucks. It sucks so hard let me tell you about it". Not even because I like him, but because he is familiar and sort of a buddy. But he was no where to be found, and when we did cross paths he felt like a stranger. I had to go into receiving again, and he popped in to say 'hi". He was smiling as usual and didn't notice that I was sad. He told me he was sneaking back here to call his girlfriend and I said something snarky like "Tell her I said hey". I made a quick exit. The rest of the night he tried to get my attention, but I was sort of over it. Because it was then that I realized that he isn't mine. I have no access to him. I can't confide in him, I can't go to him with my problems. He is only McAbs and apparently only available for piggy back rides and playing where's waldo in the kids department. And I need more than that, I want more than that. Even in just a friend.

And I feel like he knows that i am this nice, sweet, innocent girl and that he has the upper hand in our budship. Because naturally he is dominate and I am willing. And sometimes that can come off as submissive which I'm not. Because when he is being a guy (the strong silent type), it's because I am in a way allowing him to be that guy that I want him to be. But unfortunately the more I get to know him, the guy I want him to be isn't possible. Because what I want is someone available for me to come to when the shit hits the fan, or when I am mourning.

So later that night, while he was in the cafe he asked me if I wanted a ride home. He expected me to say 'yes', I expected me to say yes. But I couldn't. Because I really didn't want a ride, and I also don't want him to think I rely on him to drive me home on Sundays. I don't want him to think that I can never say no because he is too attractive and I am too...plain.

So I told him I'd take a rain check. And he pouted, and tried to lure me with candy and control over the radio dial. But I couldn't, because I like him more than I should. More than is appropriate for a guy with a girlfriend. And because I can't have him the way I want him, and he doesn't know when I'm upset. He doesn't even care. So I have to create a boundary that we both can't cross. I have to create a healthy friendship with him, because he isn't mine. He can never be mine. And maybe that's a good thing.

This grief thing is hard. I called Marie on the walk home. It was raining. And I was soaked and I asked her if I am acting out in response to grief. If this need for sort of physical comfort is in response to being a mess inside. I mean luckily I am not a skanky skank. But I can see myself wanting to find comfort in types of people instead of trying to deal with my grief. Because I don't know how articulate it, or make sense of it. I feel angry, and sad, and confused and I want to punch a wall or lay against someone back as he carries me home.

And it has a lot to do with being afraid. And completely devastated about his death. And I am scared that because he isn't here anymore, he doesn't exist anywhere. And instead of contemplating all of those things, I distracted myself in the pedestals I put people on, mainly guys. But when I am able to face myself, and sometimes to face Danny...I am filled with sadness. And I only find comfort in illusions....that somewhere, he never stopped really existing. That he is on an island, far out of reach surrounded by creatures who "love him so, they'll eat him up"