the lehman house [26]

Sarah and I posing at the Halloween Party

Monday. I worked till 1:00 with Nate & Rob. The credit card machine broke down, so we did everything the old fashioned way. I ran into Dyke outside the café, and he grabbed my arm, pulled me into a hug, said, “You’re my buddy.” Sarah and I went for a walk at Eden Park, sat at the Overlook and talked. We saw a squirrel with broken legs. Sarah almost cried. She got staples stuck in her shoe, and they carved bloody holes into the bottom of her feet. “Stigmata!” We went to Kroger, saw Rob & Mandy there. Sarah ran up and grabbed her butt; Mandy swung around, ready to throw down. She said, “You guys look adorable! And I can see in your faces that you’re losing weight.” We stopped by the Fuel Center and visited Jobst before enjoying rice for dinner back home. I went to the Hilltop to hang out with Jessie and Mandy. I told Mandy, “I must face reality: as much as I may want to be Sarah’s boyfriend, as much as I want to give her all she wants and deserves, she will not have it. And those are the cold-hearted facts, the grim face of truth. I’ll either have to crucify all desire for her or be tormented day-in and day-out until we move out come May. I’m a FOOL for even entertaining the idea that Sarah could love me. No, she could; but she won’t.”

Tuesday. Sarah called me from work around 11:00, in tears, having an awful day. Sarah came home, feeling a bit better, and we fixed tilapia fillets on the grill. I ran to the Pit Stop for smokes, and then Sarah and I did three workout videos. It was awful but felt great at the same time. She took a shower and sat on the sofa in nothing but a towel and then went downstairs to do her pedicure. She returned upstairs after a while and talked. I told her that I’m a confident person, when I’m not sad, but when I’m depressed, I feel worthless and inadequate and ugly. I don’t want to be this way, and it sucks because there’s literally nothing I can do about it. I can’t explain what it’s like, to have to fight off tears for no reason, to want to injure yourself, to dream about dying, and that dream being your only hope and goal. But it’s NOT who I really am. Before all this I was popular and people loved being around me, and I was passionate and people marveled at me. And this is what I’ve become: a shell of the person I once was. The depression, it takes so much out of me. I find myself sliding deeper and deeper into hopelessness, ‘cause I’ll have to deal with this the rest of my life. And what if a day comes when it’s too difficult to bear, and I take my own life?

Wednesday. Someone broke into Amanda’s car last night, stole her IPOD and stereo. She was hysterical, sobbing and pissed. Dad just laughed about it. She went to Dayton to get it fixed. I worked 9:30-1:00 and then went up to Dayton to get community service forms filled out for school. Back home, Sarah and I went to Ault Park, walked around, took pictures, filmed a koalabeast video. We went to Walgreens and she got makeup and such for Halloween. We perused the lubes. We died her hair jet-black. Very sexy. I tried on a condom for the first time. “Do I have to get hard?” Yeah, you do. It was hard with her standing at the closed door, but I got it. She tried to look but I didn’t let her. We spent the night in her room scratching each others’ backs. She hiked her shirt off this time, kept her bra on. She has beautiful skin. God, I sound like a serial killer. We wrote on each other’s backs, a guessing game. I wrote Shaft me! On hers. Hilarious (her dildo’s named Shaft).

Thursday. At Ault Park yesterday, Sarah said, “This would be a great place for a wedding!” I imagined us getting married there, wanted it so badly. If I were a tall, chiseled, dark-skinned man, we’d be together. But, no, this awkward, plump body of mine is my curse. And dreaming every night about cuddling naked with her certainly doesn’t help. Both Ams and Sarah were gone all day, and when Sarah was returning home, I set up Shaft on the coffee table, surrounded it with candles, turned it on and played porn music. When she walked into the door, she nearly fell apart.

Friday. I went to the Hilltop to do some homework, and Rob made me a latte. Jessie and I went to The Anchor, talking about life and all its trimmings. I had tuna and cole slaw. I dropped her off, went to Walgreens for face paint to wear tomorrow. It’s so windy that the windows are rattling. Dylan came over around five, and we ran some errands and I got some new weights for exercising. When Sarah got home, she, Dylan and I filmed a seven minute koalabeast video which I looped to zombie music. She went to Catherine’s as Amanda returned from work. Dylan and I went over to Nate’s, saw Blake and Amos. Back at the house, we started watching a scary movie, but we didn’t get into it, and we went into my room and lied down and talked for an hour. I lamented to Ams that Sarah has no interest in me. “She just isn’t drawn to you, Anth. I’m sorry.”

Saturday. Dylan and I did Frisch’s buffet for breakfast, and then he headed home. I went to Tri-Health, finished my resume, applied for seminary, and applied for several jobs. It sucks that a good majority of churches want a MARRIED minister. It’s what I want more than anything, and I hurt without it, and guess what? It seems no one wants a single guy doing ministry, so until I get married, my degree’s a waste. I should’ve thought more critically about college; too bad I just assumed that things would work out. I should know better by now. Later in the evening Sarah and I got ready for the Halloween party. She went as a cat lady and I went as a zombie. We headed over to Hartman’s apartment around 10:00 and had a wonderful time with so many great people. We played Ninja, a drinking game (King’s), took lots of pictures. Sarah took shots, climbed onto the fridge, puked everywhere. She wasn’t drunk, the shot just went down bad. She broke out her Djarum cloves (which are now illegal to buy, thanks to the FDA). When we got home, I showered and washed off my makeup. We sat down on the sofa and she was really horny. She started flirting with me. I flirted back. She kept looking at my eyes and lips, said, “I really want a hard one,” she said. My heart started racing. I felt lightheaded. We continued flirting. I was excited, wanting to hold her so badly, to kiss her so passionately, to give her what she wanted. She was drunk, I knew she’d take it. But I didn’t make a move. My damn morality. I went to bed and so did she.

Sunday. I had chicken and rice for lunch. Sarah had a massive hangover. I did a 40-minute workout. Sarah spent the day curled up in bed. She asked me to come down, so I did, and we watched Gilmore Girls and I passed out on her sofa. I worked 5:45-9:00. Bullard asked, “Have you lost weight?” Sure have! Sarah went to bed early, she’s working full time at Millennium now, an 8-5:00 gig. I have two phone interviews with churches, one in Fairborn and another in Kentucky. I’d have to move out. Start a new life. Leave my friends and be alone. Have no one amidst the depression. But I’m now in a rut, going nowhere; borderline in love with a girl who won’t be with me; and I basically have no future here save for comfort amidst sorrow and a fantasized relationship with a girl who sees me as the bestest friend she’s ever had and nothing more. What’s the point in staying in Cincinnati with these empty dreams and depression? But would going somewhere else absent close friends be any better for the depression? Either way, I’m fucked. The solution is simple, but despite my prayers for mercy, it goes unrealized.