My second reason for posting this is anger.
When I finally joined the world of the living and clued into the fact that Neve is still alive and doing well, the temptation was to contact her. Then I noticed she is married. Her celebrity status already makes her a target for every nut in the world and I did not want to contribute to her frustrations. Besides, the memories that came back were painful ones. There is no point in us both reliving them, so why drudge them up?
If she is happy with her life, I prefer to remain forgotten.
Then in February 2008, I noticed an account on Facebook of a woman that knows her well. I figured the polite thing to do would be to contact this woman instead. Surely she would remember me, and then I could just hand my contact information to her. I figured this woman would exercise discretion and do her due diligence before ever mentioning me to Neve. After all, Neve has her own account on Facebook, there was no need to go through her.
I have no idea what compelled this woman to be so rude and insulting before blowing me off like garbage. All I asked her for was some advice on what would be appropriate under the circumstances. She fired back a reply that said ‘my memory may be fantasy or it may be real. It matters not.’
Considering how much effort I put into showing courtesy that was very insulting. My memory is a fantasy is it?
I have never smoked a cigarette in my life. I’ve never experimented with drugs, not even a single puff of marijuana. I quit drinking in February of 1990, and haven’t touched alcohol in over 18 years. Not even those chocolate liquors they have around Christmas. I have not owned a television since I was 16 and I really don’t watch movies very often, so my memory is not influenced by daytime soap operas or Hollywood storylines.
And even if you strip all my memories away, the facts of my life remain. I quit Vista Heights the same year Neve did. Why did that happen? It was not because I got a scholarship to attend private school. I transferred from one public school to another, Vista Heights Public School to Settlers Green Public School. I didn’t switch because I moved. I lived in the same house on Windwood Drive from age 4 to age 16. It was not because my parents wanted me to switch, in fact I had to beg them to transfer out, and they didn’t want to do it. It was not because I got picked on at school like Steven Pearson. There were only two kids in our class that could stand up to me in a fight and only one could take me for sure, Robert Dykeman, and he was one of my two closest guy friends in that class.
What I remember, I remember well. My memory is no fantasy.
A fantasy would be….
One night I was laying in bed wearing my sexiest pair of Scooby Doo jammy-jams, a licorice pipe was suavely dangling between my lips. I heard a noise so I went to investigate. When I pushed the curtains out of the way, there was Neve smiling at me through my bedroom window. She was wearing only the bottom half of her Wonder Woman underoos.
I opened the window and she threw her arms around my neck. I carried her to bed and we snuggled up under a blanket. We fell sound asleep.
The next morning my alarm didn’t go off. We were running late so we decided to shower together quickly to save time, before jumping on the transit bus to grade school. Then we ….
That is a fantasy!
My best friend from childhood cut me out of her life, because I wouldn’t join her ballet school is not a fantasy. That is my most painful childhood memory relived.
Assuming that woman is right though. Assuming my memory is just a fantasy, and it really does matter not, then I guess no harm can possibly come from me posting said memories to the web for all to read.
When I finally joined the world of the living and clued into the fact that Neve is still alive and doing well, the temptation was to contact her. Then I noticed she is married. Her celebrity status already makes her a target for every nut in the world and I did not want to contribute to her frustrations. Besides, the memories that came back were painful ones. There is no point in us both reliving them, so why drudge them up?
If she is happy with her life, I prefer to remain forgotten.
Then in February 2008, I noticed an account on Facebook of a woman that knows her well. I figured the polite thing to do would be to contact this woman instead. Surely she would remember me, and then I could just hand my contact information to her. I figured this woman would exercise discretion and do her due diligence before ever mentioning me to Neve. After all, Neve has her own account on Facebook, there was no need to go through her.
I have no idea what compelled this woman to be so rude and insulting before blowing me off like garbage. All I asked her for was some advice on what would be appropriate under the circumstances. She fired back a reply that said ‘my memory may be fantasy or it may be real. It matters not.’
Considering how much effort I put into showing courtesy that was very insulting. My memory is a fantasy is it?
I have never smoked a cigarette in my life. I’ve never experimented with drugs, not even a single puff of marijuana. I quit drinking in February of 1990, and haven’t touched alcohol in over 18 years. Not even those chocolate liquors they have around Christmas. I have not owned a television since I was 16 and I really don’t watch movies very often, so my memory is not influenced by daytime soap operas or Hollywood storylines.
And even if you strip all my memories away, the facts of my life remain. I quit Vista Heights the same year Neve did. Why did that happen? It was not because I got a scholarship to attend private school. I transferred from one public school to another, Vista Heights Public School to Settlers Green Public School. I didn’t switch because I moved. I lived in the same house on Windwood Drive from age 4 to age 16. It was not because my parents wanted me to switch, in fact I had to beg them to transfer out, and they didn’t want to do it. It was not because I got picked on at school like Steven Pearson. There were only two kids in our class that could stand up to me in a fight and only one could take me for sure, Robert Dykeman, and he was one of my two closest guy friends in that class.
What I remember, I remember well. My memory is no fantasy.
A fantasy would be….
One night I was laying in bed wearing my sexiest pair of Scooby Doo jammy-jams, a licorice pipe was suavely dangling between my lips. I heard a noise so I went to investigate. When I pushed the curtains out of the way, there was Neve smiling at me through my bedroom window. She was wearing only the bottom half of her Wonder Woman underoos.
I opened the window and she threw her arms around my neck. I carried her to bed and we snuggled up under a blanket. We fell sound asleep.
The next morning my alarm didn’t go off. We were running late so we decided to shower together quickly to save time, before jumping on the transit bus to grade school. Then we ….
That is a fantasy!
My best friend from childhood cut me out of her life, because I wouldn’t join her ballet school is not a fantasy. That is my most painful childhood memory relived.
Assuming that woman is right though. Assuming my memory is just a fantasy, and it really does matter not, then I guess no harm can possibly come from me posting said memories to the web for all to read.
