Anyway, today I looked through an old yearbook in Ceurlean (last year's). One from Kimball. I saw pictures of Gary and Robin told me that he had won the Golden Hammer award. Good for him. He is not what I am troubled about. My upset still lies at Kimball, but is our paperboy. At least for today. He may not even be today's. He is quitting the paper route and I am sad. Yes- admit it Dona, you like him. You know you do. I want to like him as a friend -- but something in me wants to KISS him. I cannot figure it out. He isn't very cute - he has got a baby-face. But he is so friendly. And he has such a grand smile. Why? Why can't I realize that he isn't just smiling at me. He smiles at everyone because he is friendly - a very friendly person.
Today will be the last time he delivers a paper to my house maybe. Oh - why do I do this to myself? I am just an idiot I suppose.
I cannot talk to my mother about it because she will say too many things I don't agree with. I don't dare to tell Cindy -- she would seem bored anyway.
Now I will go and make a fool of myself on the porch or something. What a fool I am. And then there are times when I pretend. I have a pretend conversation with him. Am I mad? Probably.
Now I am down from the tree. I have just picked a rose and brough down Romeo and Juliet. I don't even care if he comes by. I don't love him. I love life, grass, flowers, books, birds, sky sunshine that warms me. I am not in love and never have been not ev----------------------------------------------------------------------------
He just came by. My heart is pounding. In my stomach?
"Hey. Wanna see my big dog?"
"You have a dog?"
"Yeah, a poodle"
"Is he big?"
"No, he's a toy"
No more pretending! I can do it alone. Although he doesn't say the things he would in my dreams, it was fine. Fine? I have already said that I am not in love. And I'm not. I just need to prove to myself I can talk to the opposite sex without fumbling.
Now to work on Jeff again -- although I can talk to him pretty well.
I had better go help mother fix dinner.
Now I don't know my feelings. Bob delivered our paper today -- for the last time. I went to the door to get the paper and he turned around and asked me if I wanted to see his "big dog". didn't realize what he meant so he said that he would bring it down later. I said ok and he left. My heart was pounding and I ran upstairs and decided I had to go to the bathroom and ran back downstairs. I kept on assuring myself that I didn't really like him, That he is only a friend. But I couldn't stop my heart from pounding. I rushed around the house like a madwoman. I probably am mad.
Well, mom dad and Kevin got home. My stomach was still jumping. Well anyway he came with his dog -- Coco - and asked me to his house to see his other dog. We walked there and I went in and saw their kittens and dog. On the way there, I told him I was a soph. He seemed turned off. Good. He didn't even walk me home. It has helped me to write about it, really.
Why do I make such a big think out of something small? My dear mother just "defamilized" me. Yester was big, wow. I woke up late, and a while later we left for the store (Jewel-Osco). But before we went there I drove! Daddy took the care into the country and let me take over. It was really fun. Later when we got home I worked on my English final. Then at 3:00 we went to another store (Sears) and I got a racket. We got home after a while and after supper Daddy watned to fix the dishwasher so Mother, Kevin, Franz and I took a walk around the block. When we got to the corner, kitty-corner from Bob's house he came over.
No more to write about. He does like me. I wasn't making a big thing out of nothing ---------- it's something. What to do???
Time to write more this being written two weeks from the first entry - Bob has asked me to go steady. About a week ago (more really) and I turned him down. I have emotions too strong to keep inside. He is so immature - he can't even read. If only he would let me help him with his reading problem maybe, maybe what? He doesn't even remember my name -- he calls me Diane?. I wish I could know what to do. I haven't seen him to talk to since Wednesday -- this is Saturday.
Some more clear thinking needed. I am back in the tree, trying to sort out my feelings. Shall I go back to the beginning? No, I have been over that too much already. No, I don't love Bob. I did love Gary, or loved love in his case -- but I only mildly like Bob. I think that he likes me a bit more than mildly.
I may have already written some of the above in the journal, there are some pages that fell out and it all seems familiar. Some non-Bob points - notice what I call my parents in most of these entries. I call my father "Daddy" and my mother "mother". This was a rough time for my mother and me. We butted heads a lot. Whereas my father was not around so much, therefore he and I had a smoother relationship. The Franz that is mentioned in the post is our toy dachhound. Which is also why Bob referred to his dog as big, I think.
It amuses me to read this post. I love the part where I had pretend conversations with Bob, then had a real one that was very stupid. Then I analyze the conversation and remark that Bob doesn't say the things he did in my dreams.