The Three Phases

A Short Story by Jordan Gibbs

Phase 1: Pleasure

She was excited and I was terrified. I’m social enough usually, well by social I mean I talk to people and laugh at the appropriate moments. But this really wasn’t my thing. There were going to be huge amounts of people there, plus dancing. I can dance well enough, and that’s actually one of the defining features of me. People know me for my ability to dance. Usually that would instantly make me gay but having a girlfriend does tend to help defray these kinds of accusations. But anyway dancing in front of other people isn’t my thing. I don’t want to put myself out there like that.

I feel at home in formal clothing, wearing it in normal situations helps to set me apart from people. But I never wore it properly. I would roll up one of the shirt sleeves, stuff like that. But the down side of that is when people get dressed up for things like this ball, I look no different. Except for the fact I keep my shirt sleeves down. In fact the only time I ever get remarks on my clothing is when I wear something that isn’t formal. People have actually gasped when seeing me in board shorts before, which I wear all the time at my house.

And so in formal clothing, looking completely normal, I was waiting at my girlfriend’s house. I’d been there for a long time, a few hours at least. But this would be the first time that I would see her fully dressed up with make-up and all.

And there she was, dressed in a pale green dress that perfectly matched her eyes at that point. I’m reliably informed and can confirm that her eyes do change colour. For a moment she was all I could see. People talk about how they say something so beautiful that it takes their breath away, well I could breathe fine. But I couldn’t take my eyes from her, like I was drinking all too readily in the sight of her. She had put glitter around her eyes and it trailed toward her temples tapering to a point somewhere in front of them. It made them stand out; it drew your attention, because those eyes were full of light and happiness. She was happy because she got a night of fun and laughter with her friends and me. What a pity she’d picked me. I think looking back at it that I made her night better and worse. Better because I was there, living in different places made it difficult to spend time with each other and every second was a blessing. And worse because we were doing something that I hated, and had made it plainly known. I should have been more responsive, or at least pretend that I was interested.

But where was I. Ah yes how beautiful she looked. I have never seen anything more beautiful. But when you look at it objectively I’ve only lived for 17 years. Theoretically I still have another 53 or more years to see more beautiful things but so far… In a respect it was like putting me in board shorts. You just don’t expect it. Except with me and board shorts not much changes, I don’t mysteriously get more handsome because I’m wearing board shorts. Just like I preferred to spend my time in formal clothing she preferred to wear anything colourful, zany, a little bit odd, it matched her personality. If you know me well I don’t think full formal represents me. I’m just a little bit too silly for it. So when I saw the change from that zany colourful and slightly odd clothes to the beautiful dress. It was a bit shocking. But the silly little bashful smile reminded me that she was still the girl I remembered.

As she walked towards me I stepped forward and hugged her. “You look beautiful.” I whispered. Her smile grew a little wider as she whispered back, “Thanks.” And there was my mother making me feel more uncomfortable than what I already was. She wasn’t doing anything bad she was just being her, but that still didn’t stop me from being uncomfortable. But it was more out of apprehension rather than embarrassment. Mums are like that I think. They rarely every embarrass us but they do tend to look they’re going to at any moment. They lined us all up for photos because everybody loves photos of their kids dressed up. But I just looked like I normally did, not that other people would know that.

I had no jacket, that’s the one part of the formal attire I neither have nor think that I could pull off in public domains. So I never bought one and never thought to rent one for this event. A slight oversight on my part but then I would have complained at how uncomfortable it was. I hadn’t expected to enjoy it and I think that either way I would have somehow forced myself to find something to complain about. If you tell yourself something enough it becomes a truth.

We were going to be going to the Ball in a limo. And it was comfortable enough, as you expect a Limo to be. And it had drinks and a very loud sound system, something that the state of my ears attested to after the Limo ride. We got out halfway there to take a photo, as if I hadn’t had enough photos taken of me that night. I should really have made more out those moments. They were the easiest bit of the night.

When we arrived at the venue there were a lot of people milling around outside the doors. I didn’t feel any different, although I did start acting like a puppy and following her around. She was familiar, these people weren’t. And I’m not exactly the person who likes change the most. I objected vehemently to a holiday to Australia because something my parents planned involved people I don’t know. I also hated the idea of moving, because I had my house figured. I knew the perfect places to sit in the sun. I knew the places that I loved to be and the places that you should avoid. Plus the ball was in another city. It just seemed like the icing on the proverbial cake. I didn’t know anybody, it was a social situation and I had no idea where I was.

The ball was themed carnival. So there were a lot of stripes and one of the Teachers was dressed as a clown. Apparently this was her favourite teacher. Quite honestly I could see why. I mean I’d never heard him speak or seen him in any other situation but somehow you can just tell. I didn’t imagine her favourite teacher to be the kind who had their hands clasped and was gravely greeting people, just no.

And we got searched as we came in. I’ll be honest I wasn’t exactly expecting it. But I suppose in a bigger place than I’m used to they have problems that I’m just not used to. That and I was not and am still not familiar with these kinds of events. Maybe it’s normal. Maybe it’s not. You’ll have to ask somebody who’s not me.

The photographers were just setting up and people were handing their coats to the coat room and having numbers written in vivid on them, no fancy tickets here. But the two rooms were full of people already. I wondered how we were all going to fit judging on what I’d seen outside. But I exaggerated and it turned out that we were fine. But surprisingly it was easy to find a table. Well one side of one. I wasn’t hungry; we’d already eaten at her house before we came. But there was food. Not much compared to the people and I was sure that it would be gone pretty much instantly. I was right.

We sat down for most of that night. When I look back at it I feel bad that I ruined her night. She never asked to dance but somehow I could tell she wanted to. I think she was happy enough, being with me but I know that I could have made her happier. I could have an effort to be happy and try and get into the spirit of things. But it wouldn’t have been real.

But as much as I hated being there I loved the fact that I was with her and I would have gone to many more of those dam things just to be with her. I don’t think she knew that. We kissed, and I lied about the photos. Kissing her was definitely the easiest part of my night. It felt right at the time. Like something incredibly familiar and comforting. I also held her hand for most of the night, further reinforcing the puppy phenomenon that I was talking about before.

Looking back at it I regret some of what I did. But it’s done. So as her mother took me to the hotel where my parents were staying I was smiling. Not because I was out of that place. That quite honestly didn’t occur to me. I was happy because I had got to spend the night with her. And I fell asleep happy. Happy because I knew I’d left something at her house and I knew that I’d have to go back for it.

Phase 2: Break

However in the end it wasn’t what he had hoped for but then again neither was it what she had thought it was. Two disappointments, very different from each other but still very much linked to each other. He doesn’t remember much of what she said. He’s still kind of stuck remembering the part where she said that she stopped being in love with him. She’s still regretting that she put him through all that in the first place.

For him life was different to look at but still operated much the same. He still went to school, still talked about games for most of the day, still barely scraped through in his classes. But something had changed inside him. He used to daydream about the next time he would see her, now he daydreamt about how one day she’d want him back. These didn’t last very long because while very imaginative he was also quite intelligent, which enabled him to find the flaws in what he imagined.

Of course there was the usual bit of sadness when two people break up. Without it you can’t consider the relationship in any way real. But he thought he felt it more than she did. Which was understandable, she ended it. And relationships are never an even split of affection. One person will always feel more strongly about the relationship than the other. That’s not to diminish the importance of the other person. But somebody will always want the other person more.

She said she wasn’t ready, he said he’d wait for her. He always was a bit of romantic like that. But with something that clichéd by Hollywood he should have guessed that it was something that would never really happen. He also should have guessed that what she said might not have been true.

This wasn’t to paint her as the villain. There’s nothing villainous about not liking somebody anymore. In fact it was more admirable the fact that she got out of the relationship when this happened. Cheating on somebody is a vile and reprehensible. It cannot and be condoned in any circumstance and those who engage in it are not worth time or effort. So in the end we must conclude that he should be thankful for small mercies. The pain he had felt was minor compared to what he would have if she had cheated on him.

She had let him down gently over the phone. He was grateful for the phone call. It was hard to communicate and out of the options he was gratified that she had taken the hardest one. And also that she didn’t leave him hanging until the next time they saw each other. But as grateful as he was it was still a hammer blow ever word she spoke. There was a sense of finality, as if she was delivering a notice of death, he was bitter at first but then he realised how much this had hurt her as well. He felt bad about what he had said. It hurt to talk but he knew that he had to say something. It didn’t matter what it was, well maybe it did a little.

After the call he was a little confused, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. He sought regularity even if it was only using a computer for a while. The computer had become an integral part of his life, both to take up time and to talk to people. But for that moment when he sat down he couldn’t remember what he had spent so long doing. So he climbed a tree. Don’t laugh at him; this was also an integral part of his life. He seemed to think better when he was above the ground. And that tree had become a place where it was incredibly easy to think, more so than most other places. There was a now easy rhythm to climbing that tree for him.

The scenery hadn’t changed in any way since the last time he had been there. The railway line that glinted in the moonlight still extended from some point just out of view on his left continuing to fade into the distance. The road still extended from somewhere on his right disappearing behind a line of trees. The only thing that really ever changed for him was what was in the field in front of him. There was no definable pattern of what was actually planted there. Just that it was cut in summer and replanted again. The trees in the distance were evergreens so they never seemed to change and there always seemed to be cows in the paddock over the railway line. If he had looked close enough he would have seen the most subtle of differences, a slight dip in the fence separating paddock and railway line, a skid mark in the grass next to the road. Just little things, stuff you would only notice if you were really looking for it. But he wasn’t. He just looked out and saw what he’d always seen.

He settled down into a grove that had been worn into the tree. He’d worn it there. So much time spent just sitting there that the tree itself seemed to have grown tolerant of his presence. He cried a little. Of course he didn’t tell anyone about that. It didn’t fit with the character. Crying made you weak and weak people got picked on. That was just how he saw it. He saw bottling his emotions as a way to avoid pain. At least that’s what he told himself. He was sad, sad that what he had cherished and wanted was gone from him. He was sad that his escape from old feelings was gone. He was sad that he had no excuse to just be around her.

He shifted his foot slightly and felt something stick to his head. It was a spider’s web. He jerked away and then looked back. The silvery threads glistened like the railway tracks did in the moonlight. He looked at them flap slightly in the slight breeze. And he felt sad for the spider. He felt stupid thinking about it later but in that moment he knew that the spider had lost something it had laboured long and hard to create. And that now it would have to spend an age trying to build it again when someone could blunder in and destroy it in an instant. At that moment he identified more with a spider than he did anything else in the world.

But later he would realise something. While he was completely justified feeling sad he shouldn’t. He should be happy that he had gotten to experience what he had, even if it was for just a small while. Missing what was no longer his would only prolong his suffering and not enable him to look back on what he had done with fond memories. So he tried to get over himself. Some days it works better than others.

Some days he is able to smile softly to himself as he remembers what was. The days they spent together with many other friends around them. The hours spent in each other’s arms, the feeling of comfort and peace that he felt while he was with her. The way that he felt that nothing could stop him, the way he felt invincible. There was a particular memory he was fond of. They were lying on his bed, just talking, about everything and nothing. But right then he felt like his whole world was right.

Other days he tries to forget. He laughs all too readily, forces a smile and talks all too much. Buries himself in anything he can, be it work or school or just reading a book.

Some days he forgets, he can live for the moment and just forget what he has tried to come to terms with.

And other days he thinks of little else. He tells himself endlessly that life was better then. That life will never be that happy for him again. He acts as if he waits long enough and looks sad enough then she will come back to him one day. But inside he knows that she never will and this makes him worse.

It depends on the day. So much about him depends on the day. Day to day he can change so radically. But through it all he wished so much for closure. A way to end the pain he still feels. He wanted her back some days. Some days he whispered her name. Some days he just wished he’d never met her. And some days he just wanted to stop thinking about her, just anything except her.

Phase 3: Rebound

But days like that don’t last for ever. The structure of his mind doesn’t work that way. So he moved on, for the most part. Some days he relapses but most days he looks to the future. He wonders what the future holds but for now he is content. But even the days that he spends in contentment cannot be expected to stay, so he finds another.

Some days he ponders what it looks like because the girl who had dumped him and the new girl were family, cousins. Because while not altogether that odd from a purely genetic view. If somebody is attracted to a girl then it is more than likely that he would like a different girl from the same family. It’s only societal rules that actually inhibit people from being attracted to someone from the same family. These rules, added to the feeling of displeasure that can seem to radiate from both parents and “the old crush”, make up the core of the inhibition. There are other more subtle reasons such as feelings of inadequacies and such. But for the most part the boy did not consider any subtleties. He merely considered it all at face value. 

For the boy this was important. Appearance contributes a lot to the success of education and success inside the workplace. So to have ones appearance jeopardised by a single rash act or decision is a fairly common fate. And obviously the boy did not want this fate to befall him. So he did something that is attributed to him, he thought. He was known for being intelligent, but wisdom and intelligence are very different things. He used his intelligence to try and find the wise path.

But for all the pampering of his intelligence it all seemed much vaunted in his opinion, for he could not find a solution that was both safe and advantageous. It was impossible to maintain his appearance and continue to pursue this girl. As he looks back at it sometimes he wonders why it took him so long to make his decision.

But as long as it took his decision to make it was nothing compared to the time it took him to actually build up any semblance of courage. He called it courage because he had a very real fear, the fear of losing a friend.

 It’s been seen often enough. After a gentleman confess’ his affections, which the lady in question probably will have already guessed at, the relationship either continues as if nothing had happened. This of course is the more desirable of the negative outcomes. The positive outcome is that lady says yes but it is already well established that this is not really interesting unless some scandal ensues. The other negative outcome is that the lady begins to alienate the man, until neither can call the other friend. This is the fear that the boy very keenly felt. He wanted to take his relationship further. But at the same token he also didn’t want to lose someone who he considered a very dear friend.

He also had to take into account the fact that they had only some interests that overlapped. Now as a general rule this is never a bad thing. But you also must strike a balance between having too much in common and having to little. So as he found it hard to make general conversation without others around he began to think that inside this hypothetical relationship they leaned maybe a little to having to little in common. But he persevered because he believed that it was the right thing to do. Whether he actually believed this or was simply showing his stubborn streak is unknown at this time. He doesn’t consider this so even he doesn’t have an answer.

In the end it was chance that removed him from this impasse, a quick word on his way home. She said no, as he had very well been warned, so that softened the blow to some degree. Nor was it entirely painless however. He went away smiling so we can only guess that he was happy. Perhaps he was happy because he no longer had to deal with his affection, it was unwanted as it seemed. Perhaps he went away smiling because he wanted to be alone before he let out his sadness and maybe he went away smiling because the smile was simply stuck on his face while he tried to work out what he’d done, where his carefully laid plans had gone.

And now? Well now he deals with something that is close to entirely new, not liking anyone. It’s not entirely new because everybody didn’t like people as kids. It’s new to him because for most of his teenage life, when these kinds of things are expected of him, he had a crush or a girlfriend. And I’m sorry to say he had a crush for a lot longer than he did girlfriend. Although this does afford him a degree of freedom, he can flirt with whoever he chooses, with the logical exceptions of those in relationships. Although sometimes he even ignores those boundaries. He also show favouritism to some people, but that’s just because he appreciates their company not through any want of a relationship.

To most people’s eyes he free from any constraint beyond societal expectations. But he feels more bound than ever.