Hey all. I pretty much wrote this purely out of my misery. Yeah, I'm feeling pretty down about some things right now. And I assure you, it is nothing at all serious. I just feel low about a few things, and most of which are not even real life things (fandom related) and if they are, they are fixable and by tomorrow, I'll feel so much better.
But oh, so much of this was eating at my gut that I had to write this. That's how I usually make myself feel better. I write. Or read, or watch something and cheer myself up.
I was also kind of inspired by SuprSingr, and her second chapter of her fic "Arnold's Journal", which is one of the things I feel bummed about. XD Yeah, I know, how silly of me to feel sad over a freaking FANFIC. Well, come on! It was depressing! XD
So, here we go, I guess. XD
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He had been back for about a month now.
Even now, I still couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe after he was gone for so long, that he was back. Back in the same country. Back in the same state. Back in the same city. Back in the same neighbourhood.
Back within walking distance.
Oh God. I don't even know whether I should be happy or if I should just shoot myself.
But I, Helga G. Pataki, am not a quitter. Suicide is for weak-minded morons who don't even know what a psychologist is. Stupid idiots.
Whatever. I'm not talking about that now.
My love, my angel, my inspiration, my reason for living, my EVERYTHING, and my....ex-boyfriend, is back now. Arnold. He's home now.
It's a long story how everything came about, and I think about it all the time and every day. It hurts to do that, and yet, I can't help but smile at the better times.
During our class trip to San Lorenzo, back when we were ten and in Fifth Grade, Arnold had succeeded in finding his parents and apprehending that bastard La Sombra. I had helped him as much as I could, because one I knew of his mission, there was no stopping me. I was going to help him find his parents, dead or alive. He wanted to know the truth, and you know I'd do anything for my beloved, so of course I kicked myself into high gear and helped him as much as I could.
Of course, I nearly gave up. There was a point that I just lost myself and pretty much was ready to throw in the towel. Even I can't believe myself, looking back. How could I have been so weak? Surprisingly enough, it was Brainy who helped me get back on my feet. I was moping like a moron in the middle of the jungle, in tears and frustrated with myself, when Brainy comes to where I am, and just kind of says hi and asks if I'm okay. I kind of ranted and yelled for a minute about the whole situation. I couldn't help it, I wanted to help my beloved, and I was failing in doing so.
On top of that, I had lost my locket, too. My precious possession aside from my bow. My locket. With Arnold's photo inside, and a little inscription that although didn't express my love in a poem, was still loving and sincere, telling him I loved him.
Arnold my soul, you are always in my heart. Love, Helga G. Pataki.
I still smile when I see that message. Yes, I still have my locket, shut up.
Anyway, so then Brainy gives me my locket, which he had found. And needless to say, that was enough motivation for me to get back on my feet and keep trying. The war wasn't over. Far from over. And so I did. And I'm so glad I did.
Okay, I'm getting carried away. At the end of it all, I was presented with the surprise of my life when Arnold...
Well, confessed that he loved me too.
I couldn't believe it at the time. I was so sure something was wrong and that I was being tricked. I knew I wasn't dreaming. So I figured it was some kind of a hallucination brought on by my imagination. After all, I'm the same girl who was walking home and seeing lemons turn into Arnold heads! I attributed it all as the unrequited love finally making me snap.
But then he kissed me.
And I knew it was real. Arnold, the love of my life and my angel, was in love with me right back. He loved me. He actually loved me. ME! Helga G. Pataki! The same girl who had tormented him throughout our childhood, while still had SOME nice moments with him. Me!
Well, needless to say, we didn't go back to Hillwood the same way.
We dated for a few years after that. Our courtship was, despite all the fights, wonderful. We went on dates, held hands in the hallways at school, kissed between classes, sat together at lunch, went for walks, we did a lot of things together and we had fun. A lot of fun.
It was definitely the greatest times of my life.
But then it all came crashing down.
We broke up.
Oh yes. I should have known it would happen eventually. Girls like me didn't deserve happiness. Not after all that I did, not after what my life has been like. I didn't deserve such a gem. We had stormy times, and then he dropped the bomb on me that he was moving. His parents wanted to travel the world and of course he was going with them, he never wanted to be separated from them again.
Lovely.
So, we broke up before he left. Mostly our stormy times had to do with it, but also, I bet the move had something to do with it. We didn't want to tie each other down. I know I didn't. After all, what if he met and fell in love with a gorgeous girl somewhere in England or something?
Needless to say, I just felt myself going downhill since he left. Yeah, I'm a little better now, but still. I just don't feel the same.
He wrote to me all the time, which was awesome. I kept and savoured all of his letters. I wanted to write back to him, but I couldn't. I feel so stupid about that. I would write a letter, place it in an envelope, address it, stamp it, and then off to the mailbox I go. Drop it in, zip-a-dee-doo-da. Done.
But no.
I would always find myself chasing after Harvey, demanding the letter that I had just tried to send back. He'd give it to me, I'd take it home, place it in my binder where I keep all my unsent letters to him, and then sulk about it for a while. Looking back, it WAS pretty lame of me to do that.
But I can't really explain it. I just couldn't do it. It's one of those things that you just do by instinct, and you don't really have a logical explanation. You just do it.
Well anyway, the point is, we had a lot of rough times throughout our courtship, he moved away, and now he's back.
Which brings me to today. I guess I may as well tell you what's going on with me.
I am now seventeen years old, a Senior in high school, and boy I've definitely changed quite a bit in the appearance department. I'm now very tall, 5'9", courtesy of my the genetics of my parents, especially my dad. My hair is longer, and I may sometimes wear it in pigtails, but mostly I leave it down or wear it in a ponytail. My face grew into my nose and eyes, so I don't look like such a big, bug-eyed creature. I had braces a few years ago, so my overbite has improved, thankfully. Oh yes, and I did pluck my unibrow when I was twelve. It felt good having two eyebrows for a while. But now I alternate. Sometimes I keep the unibrow, and then when I get sick of it, gimme the tweezers. And vice-versa.
Puberty has been VERY friendly to me. I've got pretty good boobs, a 34 C, on top of that. Not bad, eh? I've got hips, great legs, a toned stomach, strong toned arms. I have to admit, I look pretty good. Thanks, baseball and basketball! Yeah, I've got a pretty thin athletic build. Works for me. The boys definitely notice, and they've been asking me out left and right since 10th grade.
Ahahahahaha, NO.
That's right, I always give those stupid oversexed assholes the same answer. NO. It's always the same kind of guy. Never met him, never had a class with him, sometimes in a different grade than me, and who obviously doesn't know me. All they want is sex, since I happen to be a hot blonde chick with a good body.
It's not to say I didn't try to date. I did find it myself to date a couple of guys. Didn't work out, long story short. The first guy was nice, his name was Brent Perters, and he was a bit of a nerd. We felt we were better off as friends. The other guy turned out to be a jerk, and he cheated on me with his ex. Yeah. I dumped his ass in front of everyone in the cafeteria. HA! Take that, asses.
But other than that, I've had no luck with boys.
Not that I care.
Arnold has always been my true love. He still is, even to this day. I knew from the beginning that I would never stop loving him. You know, when you really love someone, and even if you move on and find someone else, you never stop loving them? Yeah, I found that out first hand, and in thanks to the father of one of my uncles.
Okay, get ready for a boring old man-related story. But let me tell you, it opened my eyes and realize that true love really CAN last a lifetime.
My uncle, who is married to my mom's sister, had his father, John, release a little autobiography on his life story. I've met John a few times in my life, and he always had such interesting stories about his days in the army and other times of his life. Well, call me crazy, but I asked my uncle if I could have a copy. I wanted to see if I could find something juicy. Heh heh, yeah, shut up! Anyway, he's as old as Arnold's Grandpa, and he always had a story to tell.
John is actually from Canada, born in 1927, he lived up in northern Manitoba in a small town, and was pretty poor. Which was pretty common back then in the 1930's, the era of the Great Depression. His family lived on a farm, and he had to drop out of school most of the time in order to work on his family's farm, and do little odd jobs around town to make money. He had four brothers and sisters, so you can imagine how tough it was back then, raising that many kids on an incredibly tight budget.
Anyway, he was in love with this girl, Dawn. They were together for a few years, dating at age ten until about fourteen, when she moved away. They promised that they would one day reunite and get married, and would always love each other. They didn't see each other again until 2002, and she left back in 1940.
After his service to the Army, John ended up marrying my uncle's mother, Clara, in 1962. He really did love her, and they had three children together. They had met while he was in Québec, serving in the Royal Canadian Air Force. They met in Montréal, and eventually got to dating before they got married some years later. But Clara was a pretty sick woman most of the time, her health wasn't exactly the best, and she didn't do much of a good job in taking care of herself. As John described it, during her final years, she had pretty much just forgotten how to love. She was always so weak, so frail. Her days in the hospital were heartbreaking on the whole family. It wasn't long after their 50th Wedding Anniversary that she died.
Despite the rough times, he did love Clara, despite how upset and resentful he felt of her soon after she died. But John was a real trouper. He went to live in America with his son and daughter in-law for a while to get himself back on his feet, and then eventually went back to Canada. This time, he moved to Saskatchewan to settle down in his retirement, and work as a newspaper columnist. And guess who he met one day?
Dawn.
I'm not even joking.
And you know what?
Even to that very day, John had never stopped loving Dawn. Here he was, an old man at 85 years old, and he was still in love with his childhood sweetheart. And she too, was still in love with him. They had never forgotten the promise they had made all those years ago, I might add. They dated for a year, and then got married. They live together now in Saskatchewan, enjoying their retirement, and oh yes, John still works. He's quite a spring chicken for a man his age, let met tell you.
Dawn had had it pretty rough herself. Her husband had been an alcoholic, and often left her and her own children in trouble and in debts because of his alcohol abuse. He had died of severe alcohol poisoning in 1998, leaving her in quite an emotional turmoil for a while.
And she looks good. She's in her 80's, but I could swear she was in her fifties. I couldn't believe a woman could look that good at an old age. It was weird.
We just saw them last year when they came to visit us with their kids. They're still together, and as energetic and young as ever. Dawn was complaining about having gray hairs. Please! My aunt is in her fifties and she's been gray since she was forty! Oh well.
So long story short, I came to realize that love really can last a lifetime. I've been in love with Arnold since I was three years old. I'm now seventeen, and my feelings haven't changed. In fact, they only grew stronger as time went by. Ever since I read John's book, I knew for certain, more than ever before, that my love would never change. That makes me so mad, and yet happy at the same time. God, everything about this is just love and hate!
I loved him. I hated him for doing this to me. I loved him for doing this me. I hated him.
It hurts me. It makes me happy.
Sometimes I have moments where I don't even know what to do.
I tried to convince my friends that I was over him. Phoebe knew all too well that I was lying. Hell, I even tried to convince myself to get over him. And that didn't work. Dr. Bliss told me so.
Oh yeah, and I've been seeing Dr. Bliss for quite a few years now, and let me tell you, I love that woman. I really do. She's been a mother figure to me, and has always helped me through tough times. She's a part of what helped me to realize that I could never stop loving Arnold. No, I will never stop loving my flaxen-haired angel. Not ever.
I just saw her the other day, and I asked her, what can I do now? Now that he's home, what can I do?
She told me to do what I thought was right. To be nice, to be his friend, even. Well, I kind of did. We haven't spoken much since he got back and we started school, but I've tried. I just don't know if he still wants me around though.
Okay, I'm going to go girlish for a moment, but I have got to let this out.
HE IS SO HOT!!!!!!!!
I'm not kidding. Arnold, to me at least, is so HOT.
He's 6'2" now, which is so funny, since he is now taller than me. Ha! What a funnny change. He definitely gets it from his dad and Grandpa for sure. His head is actually a little less obviously oblong, or football-shaped, but it's still there, it's just it now is better proportioned for his body. His hair is still unruly and sticking up, pointing in all directions. I don't care. I love his hair! God, I just want to run my fingers through it... Anyway, he's still pretty skinny, but he has a bit more of a tone to him, from sports and all his physical activity. I like it, it suits him. His gorgeous green eyes still shimmer with kindness and patience, his half-lidded smile still sends shivers up and down my spine, ohh...
Ah damn it, there I go again.
Anyway, to me, he's so damn hot. It took all of my strength the first time I saw him not to hug him like crazy and kiss the living daylights out of him. Seriously, I would eat him alive if I could. What with my hormones having been kicking in over the past few years, on top of that.
Now of course, I'm wondering. What's next? Could things ever be the same?
I wasn't sure. I thought I would have moved on by the time he came back, but no. I haven't. I should have expected that, right? Well, now I know. No matter what he does, where he goes, he will always be my true love.
Fine. I confess. I want him back. That was pretty obvious, but there, I said it.
But we can't. We just can't. Would it even work? Would we fight just as much, if not more than before? Would we drive each other away? Would he just pack up and leave again? There was so much uncertainty, I wasn't even sure if I could think about what would happen if we got back together. All of that scared me, and I don't know if I'd be able to handle another break up.
My heart sinks as I think about this, but I know there are two sides to every coin.
I want him so much. But he deserves better. He deserves better than a girl like me. I really could never drag him down like this. Why would I? I love him too much to do that.
Ugh. I need a break.
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I want to make a quick note to you all. :D The story Helga was telling about her uncle's father…is actually based on a true story about my uncle's father. I just changed the names, places, and some bits of the situation, but still the same kind of story. :)