Waiting: Chapter One: The Beginning

ONE

I guess there is no better time for an introduction than now, huh? The name’s Ian. No nickname or anything, just Ian. I was born in Ocala, New Jersey. I spent my childhood there. My whole childhood. I never started any trouble, I wasn’t even the least bit mischievous. Everything always had to be perfect in my family, at least for my mother. That’s how she was, hell she still is like that. I always just figured every mother was like that. It got to be a drag sometimes, but it was alright for the most part. I’ve always loved my parents. Always. And very deeply at that. I’m proud of where I am from, always have been, always will be. My parents are working class people who were always striving for their kid to be the best and have the best. Sometimes it would get on my nerves but I knew they always meant well. As a child, I was one of the special kids. But not special the way most people think of when they hear that. I was the kid that was attending all the private schools. You know, for the smart kids. Yeah, right. My parents always wanted me to be the best, the brightest, and they thought by sending me to private school that it would happen. That their dream of having this glorious kid would come true. But it didn’t.

See, I knew they cared about my education. Or at least my grades. But they never seemed to ask about what I was learning, if it was fun, if it was interesting. That always bothered me. A lot Looking back now, I’d say my childhood was pretty well spent thought. I really have no complaints, I guess. Like I said, my family was always good to me. Great to me. Nothing but the best, always. Always. I definitely enjoyed it. A lot of memories, a lot. But as I grew, things began to get a bit, I don’t know, a bit harder. A bit more ‘dull’. I grew bored with my environment, and in a way, began lashing out. Lashing out puts a negative spin on it though. Basically, I was itching for freedom. Gnawing at it each day. I was dying for independence. Dying for it. During high school, I began to get a little on the wild side, as people who are dying for independence usually do. Started to date and what not. Had more than a few close calls with more than a few girls, if you catch my drift. Again though, looking back now, it was more than a good time. I was basically consistently happy with my life for as long as I could remember. But then things started to change. A lot.
Life went on and I went along with it. I graduated from high school and figured I would take a year off. I needed a break. I needed to finally be able to do my own thing.

‘This was it‘ I thought. 'High school is over, I finally get to do what I want. My own thing, can you believe it? Don’t blow it, DO NOT blow it!'

Turned out taking a year off while working and living at home wasn’t all that fun. I actually found it to be quite a miserable existence . Not knowing where I’d be going and if I’d ever be able to move out was a horrible thought. I guess it was the mystery of it all, you know? I didn’t like it, almost hated it. I wanted to blow the thought up, destroy it. I just wanted to do something. Something needed to change, something desperately needed to change. It just needed to. I had to do something. But what?

I didn’t really do much. I just kept on living. Again, no complaints. I thought I was fine. But I knew something was missing. Then again, something was always missing.
Like I said, I was living like this for my entire life. It wasn’t bad. I loved my life, loved the people that constantly surrounded me. It was just, I don’t know; after awhile I felt a tremendous longing for change of some sort. Doesn’t everyone? Something new needed to happen. I mean, I was already sick of the nine to five grind. Driving home each night at five, the highway full of the nation’s slaves. Go to work, come home, take a nap, eat a sandwich, then go to sleep. Expansion of the bank account shrouding over what everyone really needed. To learn, learn about themselves, you know? I was sick of making money but not knowing who I really was. I felt lost. Popping pills to stay awake and study, drinking a thousand cups of coffee each day, I hated it. I needed out. I was sick of going to see a different movie each week about some fresh, tropical place far away from my boring home that I’d never left in all my life. At the time, to me, it seemed pathetic. It was pathetic. I had to do something. It sounds a cliche to me now, but I felt like the whole world was my canvas and I had to create something with it. I just had to. I wanted to go to those places I saw in the movies. Those places where people were having fun and were excited, not just waiting. I wanted to seize the moment. Carpe diem, that’s what they say, right? But my place wasn’t like that. My world consisted of working, eating, and sleep. My world was waiting to go home, and once they I arrived there, just wait around for the next day to work again. I was sick of waiting and sick of preparing. I knew I needed to get a hold of something. something that was big. I was a big fish in a small pond, that’s how I felt. I needed to find myself but didn’t know where to begin looking. I realized I couldn’t be working this same shitty job for the rest of my life. I mean it was already boring as hell, so what the hell was it going to be like come five years? Something had to change, something needed to flash before my eyes. But I kept waiting.

The year dragged on. Everyday was the same. I was just waiting. Waiting for something that seemed like it was never going to come. Each Monday I would go into work and all I cared about was the weekend, where I just waited to go into work on the following Monday. But summer came and god damn was it amazing. I met this girl, Cindy was her name. She was the cutest thing I had ever laid eyes upon at that point in my life.

Everything start to get a little better. Cindy and I spent everyday together, doing nothing but talking. We would fuck too but who doesn’t? Everything was amazing. I began to skip work almost constantly. I thought this girl was the love of my life, I mean, I really did. I loved her. I know I did, I must have. But, regardless, a little about Cindy: Cindy smoked a lot of cigarettes. She listened to loud rock music and by the way, I love loud rock music. Cindy had a ton of tattoos, she dressed like a hooker. But I loved her. God, I loved her. Cindy was all about change, all about rebellion. She was everything my teenage self longed for. Fuck conformity, fuck it all. Just be yourself. Be an individual. She would quote Morrison, Hendrix, she knew it all. She was the girl of my dreams. One morning, and I’ll never forget this, Cindy and I had passed out in my car after a drunken night of doing god knows what. We wake up the next day and I pull into the coffee shop. I always used to grab a cup in the morning, every morning. It was routine. It’s just something that stays with you after you work for a year. Yeah, Cindy never worked. She said it was for suckers. I never really knew what she did for money. Not that she ever had any anyways, I always paid. But anyways, I was going to grab a coffee, and right when the girl handed it to me, Cindy slapped it to the ground. It went everywhere. My first reaction was to yell. But then Cindy calmed me down, she was good at that. She said coffee was for suckers. She lit a cigarette, told me to take a drag. Told me I’d realize what a fool I was for ever drinking coffee in place of these babies. So I took a drag. I’ve been smoking ever since. That’s the type of girl Cindy was. I loved it. The whole summer was absolutely amazing. I lost my job halfway through it. But what did I care? Life was great.

Everyday we would wake up, sit in Cindy’s backyard all day and just gaze at the sky. I felt like a kid again, blowing off all of my responsibilities like that. It got to be really nostalgic, but one day Cindy told me something. She told me she was moving out west, but she wouldn’t tell me where. Now Cindy was always cute, sexy and all that but she was always a little different. I’m sure you picked that up already though. But the real difference was she was one of those fucking girls who just loves to test you. She loved a god damn fucking test. But I loved her, so I guess I loved the tests too. I guess.

Cindy refused to tell me where she was going. We hung out the next few weeks like it was our religion. I saw her every day and I’d sleep at her house every single night. I didn’t even remember what responsibility meant by that point. I must have been smoking about a pack a day too, it was insane. I knew I was going to be lost without her. Before she left, I asked her one more time if she’d reveal her secret, to stop playing the game. But she wouldn’t. I knew she wouldn’t. Cindy said that the only way she’d know if I really loved her was if I walked all the way across the country just to find her. I told her she was insane. In a typical Cindy response, she agreed. We made love that night and it was probably the best love I’ve ever made. And I put a ton of emphasis on that, it was the best. The next day she was gone.

I didn’t talk to her for awhile after that. Mostly due to the fact that she never called, but also due to the fact that I felt it was impossible to even begin looking for her. I figured it was just her way of saying she was done. She was always a sweet girl, I knew she wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings. I was in love, she wasn’t. That’s how it goes. I hung around town for awhile just trying to get my mind off her. I had to start a new job since I quit my last one. I mean, who wants to employ someone who doesn’t show up a single time throughout an entire season? It was a bad move on my part but I didn’t regret it at all. That was the best summer of my life. My new job sucked and I was on teetering on the edge of suicide. Or maybe I just thought that, I don’t think I was ever suicidal, but at the time, it certainly seemed it. I I didn’t care. I just wanted Cindy back. Or something like her, something at least remotely close to her. I guess you could say I had a huge gap now, it needed to be filled. I was planning on finding out just how to fill it. I never knew it’d be such a wild ride. But I’m the better for it. I know your wondering what the hell is going on. And don’t you worry because I’ll get there. Remember this: I never lie.

So eventually one night I was just laying in bed doing nothing. And I mean nothing. I was just sitting there, staring blankly into space, also known as my bedroom wall. I was sick of everything. Sick of getting drunk, sick of getting high, sick of smoking too many cigarettes out of pure boredom, sick of my piece of shit job down the street barely getting by, sick of living in my parents house, sick of driving the same car I had driven since high school. I needed out. I couldn’t take it anymore. After awhile of doing absolutely nothing but concentrating in deep thought, I decided it was time. I was beginning to understand what Cindy meant. Cindy hated this place just as much as I did. She wanted me to escape with her but I never listened. I never listened to her, she always told me that. I knew what I was going to do. I was going to find her. It was finally time for everything to change. Finally, the wait was over. To be continued...