Prologue

January 21, 2008

She commands my every thought, even though I can’t have her. I believe it’s lust mixed with envy. I lust for her, not necessarily in a sexual way, and I envy those who are privileged enough to be around her.

Right now my only desire is to be able to enjoy her company, although my anxieties and lack of social skills make it impossible for me to hold her attention long enough to do anything of the sort. It’s just so frustrating! I feel like I could give any loony a good whacking or smash my guitar up.

She constantly rejects my affections for her, but how can I help but feel how I feel? I have finally found my Pattie. But my roots aren’t strong enough to take the poison. Part of me wants to forget her completely, but her presence will always be there, either to be my crutch in the darkness or to be the wings of an angel.


This is my first journal entry from when I was eighteen. I was really into Eric Clapton, a guitar legend and one of my heroes. I had just read his autobiography, trying to find some hints and direction on my own life. I try to sound a little British, but it seems like I moved past that in later entries.

I was in love with a girl in my class. We had been friends since 7th grade, but I didn’t really find out just how amazing a person she was until we started talking more. Her name was Nell. Well, not really… but more on that later.

The summer before 11th grade, I stayed at a local college for a music program with other kids from various schools. There were a couple of students from my school. One was Nell, who had been my friend for four years. Since I first met her, she was consistently one of my better friends. And at this month-long music program, we got to spend some time together.

Throughout my whole life until then, I didn’t talk to any of the other kids at school, ever. Well, very rarely. I had a condition called selective mutism. I could talk normally at home, but public places such as school triggered an anxiety response in me, which prevented me from talking. I saw this summer program as sort of a fresh start with new people and new faces. With a lot of effort, I began to speak somewhat normally. I wasn’t sure if my new-found ability to speak would carry over to the main school year, but I decided to make the most of it.

The kids who were there from my own school knew that I didn’t talk, but they were in the minority. I didn’t want to lose this chance to try to be normal for once. After Nell saw that I was speaking, I guess she figured that it would be a good opportunity to hear my voice. She wrote down her phone number on the back of my name tag.

I was nervous to dial her number later that evening, but at the same time I felt comfortable around her. After we talked on the phone for the first time, I felt such a hurricane of euphoria. She was so easy to talk to about anything and everything, and I relished every moment. It was wonderful.

And I was blind to what was coming. I was completely unprepared for the roller coaster ride of emotions I was about to go through with her.

Pattie Boyd was George Harrison’s (of the Beatles) wife. At the same time, she was Eric Clapton’s love interest and obsession. He talked about her a lot in his book. Since Nell had a boyfriend, I took comfort in the fact that I wasn’t alone in what I was going through.

I had a crush on a different girl until then. Her name was Jane. I thought about her practically every day from 7th-10th grade. I mustered up enough courage to talk to her a few times, and I even danced with her at a homecoming assembly in 9th grade. Four pairs from each grade got picked to do a kind of waltz, and by coincidence I was chosen to be one of the dancers. By a similar coincidence, she was chosen as well, and by a bigger coincidence we got paired together. It seemed like a sign from the universe.

We were on stage with the whole school watching. The lights dimmed, and we started dancing. The dance was supposed to be synchronized, but somehow we got off track or perhaps the three other pairs of dancers got off. I didn’t care. I was living out my dream after years of fantasizing. I was dancing with the most amazing girl I thought I would ever know to some cheesy romantic music with my heart beating out of my chest. Her straight black hair, her elegant dress, and even her cute nose — they were all so perfect. I said something to her; I don’t recall exactly what. I looked into her eyes, and we both laughed and relaxed. Everything else melted away around me — the audience, the other dancers, the decorations. In that moment, only she and I existed.

We waltzed underneath paper stars that hung by pieces of string tied to the rafters. I was nervous, but tried to ignore the overload of adrenaline. I remember not really being that attracted to Asian girls, but Jane was different. She was so beautiful. She was mature, smart, and amazing at anything she did. That’s all you really need to have a good crush. That dance was the most magical moment of my life up to that point.

But suddenly and without warning, I fell madly in love with a girl named Nell, and it blew everything else away.


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