This is basically a short little piece exploring Jude's thoughts during the aformentioned span of time. Some humor worked its way mysteriously in there, probably because I had had one too many mocha-lattes when I started writing this...blah...blah...blah, etc. Here's the first part of "Vacillation". But to be redundant, I will say that again right...now.
Vacillation: Part I
Choose what's in your heart... Sadie never did give good advice. Was that little adage supposed to strike some sort of chord in my mind? Was a powerful magnet supposed to descend from the heavens and pull my walking body in the right direction? Was a proverbial lightbulb supposed to magically appear over my head? Ding, ding, ding: Jude, choose who's behind door number 1! Ummm...no. I got nothing.
I mean, what is my heart, anyways? Some appendage of my conscience, poking at me, goading my mind one way or another? A gut feeling telling me what to do, like how to decide between orange juice and milk in the morning? I never was a decisive one, anyhow. I would most likely just pour a glass of each and that was it. When it came to guys, it seemed I'd always tend to wanna try out every one that showed interest. Why? I have no clue. I guess it's easier to know which shoe fits if you actually try them all on. But why were so many of them interested in me, me of all people? Couldn't they see I wasn't good at this decision thing?
Maybe this means my heart has some sort of malfunction. Like cardio...indecisive...itis. Or something. Yes, I have a very bad case of cardioindecisivitis. Because of this, Jamie...Tommy, I am afraid I won't be able to choose between you two any time soon. My doctor has me on strict bed rest orders. Yes, I will be fine, guys, stop hyperventalating. No, Tommy, the doctor didn't hurt me...no, he wasn't hitting on me either. Umm...Jamie, no. Don't even think of making me eat Nana's Cure-It-All chicken soup; I'm sorry, but that stuff is just nasty.
Maybe I'm thinking too much. Maybe now that I'm trying to use my heart, it just doesn't want to work for me. I can see it looking up and laughing at me from down there, mocking the way I'm walking mindlessly down a road, futilly contemplating a critical decision that it would rather smirk at me trying to make than help me with. Why can't it direct me like it does when I make all of those mindless, impulsive decisions? Yeah, Jude, go ahead and say on national television that meat-eaters are barbaric; it would make those veagens feel better. Why don't you just sign a contract with Darius for Tommy's music? What could possibly go wrong? I guess when I think about it all those heart-guided decisions didn't really turn out too well anyways.
But then again, maybe all those decisions were meant to be made the way they were. Maybe it wasn't really my heart that lead me into the choices. Maybe it was some higher power. The universe! That's it. Maybe it was fate that I decided to sign that contract. It was meant to happen so that I would be in this exact place, at this exact point in time. Sure, I'm in a predicament, with the whole decide who to be with thing, but other than that I can't complain. I'm a famous rockstar; I have fufilled my dream for the most part. I have more than anyone would ever want. And really, wasn't it supposed to be a good thing to have guys fight over you? Come to think of it, I'm living the life: I have money, fame, my music...guys vying for my attention. I'm freaking fabulous. No wait...I'm fierce.
Maybe this whole fate thing knows better. I should probably just go along with it, right? Right. There's one guy I am meant to be with. Destiny. One guy I am meant to marry and have children with. Oh God, I'm starting to freak at the thought of children...my own children. Not only am I thinking of the whole nine months with another human being attached to me, but if I choose the wrong guy, will I end up with the right children? I mean, they can't possibly be the same with different...em... sperm involved. What if I'm supposed to give birth to the next Jimi Hendrix, but I pick the wrong guy? That won't happen--right?--because fate always gets its way. Whichever I pick, I'll eventually end up with the guy that will give me the life--and the children--that I am supposed to end up with.
Still. Picking said guy now would sure prevent a lot of heartache. Yeah, sure it's not like I'm necessarily going to marry the guy I choose right now. But still, gosh, that would be so cool, if life was like The Price Is Right. All I have to do is make the the right decision, 'Is the price of this brand new four door truck, Love, higher or lower than 25,000? If you're right, you win at life! You'll get a one-way trip to the life you've always wanted!' Shall I elaborate on this cheesy metaphor? I shall.
Tommy would definitely be the 'higher' choice. I mean, it seems like everything with him comes with a big price. And it seems my payment of choice is broken heart after broken heart. He must be god damn rich by now. Okay, I cannot be shedding this tear right now. Damn it, stop falling stupid tear! God, that man always seems to get me worked up. This just proves my point further: he's definitely pricey. Even when only coming up in my mind he's seems to cost me pain. Being with him is nothing but self-sacrificing. But, God damn it, when he looks at me...and those eyes. And when he...kisses me. I just, it feels like it's worth it, if only for that split second. If only for the half a moment his arms are wrapped around me in a perfect hug, I almost believe I can deal. I trust for that moment that can get through all the heartbreak he has to dish out. Bring it on! Here. Take my heart, step on it, put it through a paper shredder, roll over it with a diesel truck, I honestly don't give a care for those few milleseconds in time. It almost feels worth it. Almost.
Then there's the lower choice: Jamie. I guess you could say he's dirt cheap. There's nothing to give up, to second guess... it's all on the table. There's no what if's with him, it seems. I could see life with him. The surburban home, the golden retriever playing with the children as we frolic within our nice little white picket fences. Hold up, white picket is so cheesy. I'd at least have to venture out a little and pick like turqiouse picket or something, just for the sake of randomness. Anyways, living the Canadian Dream (or whatever that would be called) with our family of four, or so. No one to judge us, to forbid us from being together, to snap the occasional front page tabloid photo. I can see being at peace with Jamie.
But is peace what I want? It's what everyone seems to be after these days. Some peace of mind, world peace; whatever it is, they want to be happy...content. But isn't happiness just relative? Aren't we only ever happier than we were in the past? Or sadder than we ever remember being? Are there, like, happiness standards out there? The government needs to work on that. It'd be a better waste of money than stupid PSAs interrupting my favorite shows and wasting minutes of my life. Haha, and you ask 'Isn't running in circles around the Starbucks block right now also a waste of your life?' Actually, besides testing the strength of my anti-perspirant, I am making an important decision, thank you very much. Which I should get back to. Where was I? Oh yes, happiness.
No doubt both guys make me incredibly happy every so often. Jamie when he brings me coffee in the morning even when I'm being a cranky bitch. I wonder if that's more the coffee making me happy than Jamie. But it's still sweet. He always does things like that to let me know he cares, and I know that I can count on him for that. On the other hand, there's Tommy. He pretty much makes me feel alive every time he looks at me. Especially when he looks at me like that. I can't even describe what "that" is, but when he does it, I know. We know. It's like some unspoken assurance that he cares. That I'm the only one he's thinking about at that moment. Every now and then I wish, though. I wish he would do the little things that Jamie does everyday to tell me he's thinking about me. Or I wish Jamie could look at me and make me feel the way Tommy does with simple eye contact. Then one of them would surely outweigh the other in the happiness department.
If they both make me happy in two different ways, what other criteria do I have? Like I said before, I need a sign. Thinking it through just gets me right back to point A. Let's see, I've discussed which one fate has led me to, which one hurts me more, which one makes me happier. I can't help but realize that I've conveniently avoided one thing. A big thing. A thing that basically makes all of these other reasons complete crap. Crap that needed to sort through before I could face this (I know what you're thinking. "why the fuck did I read the first half of this thing then?") I don't know why I've tried so hard to keep it out of my mind when I know it's what will give me the answer I'm looking for. Maybe it's because I'm afraid. I'm afraid that I'm putting myself on the line by getting into it. I mean, this is my life I'm talking about here. This is something serious. This isn't the crush you develop on your 7th grade teacher. This isn't some 'I like you, you like me, let's get together some time' kinda thing. This could really turn into something. Something big, something invincible, something...I'm not quite sure I'm ready for. This is love. This could be my forever. He could be my forever. Who is he? I think you know exactly who I'm talking about. And now that I'm realizing this, I know that it's the only sign I need. That I would willingly give my self if it meant he would be the one to gain fate's favor, the one to be spared hurt, the one in happiness.
who is it? dun, dun, duuuunn. next part will be up in a few. (days, hours, minutes, decades? no one knows.)