talks

a conversation i had today:

me: see, thats exactly what i am talking about....you just arent going to answer me are you.....
someone else: CHAD LOOK IT IS NOT THAT I DON'T WANT TO ANSWER YOU, IT IS JUST I REALLY DO NOT KNOW WHAT TO SAY AND YOU JUST WONT GIVE UP I MEAN WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY.......... I AM TELLING YOU THE TRUTH I DO NOT KNOW WHAT HAPPEN...

me: the last time i saw you was two days before christmas......do you remember the last thing that you said to me........well, i do......you said, "when can i see you again"........i thought things were going well.....you and i were getting along really well.......i was even ready to take that next step and give you what you wanted.......then, all of a sudden there was nothing there........thats what i want to know......i want to know how you can go from wanting to know when the next time that you can see me to not even seeing me at all........
someone else: Chad, i really have no idea, all i know is how I feel right now and I do not feel that way, I do not know if it was just God's way of answering one of my many questions or if it was a mess up on my part...????????

me: that would be nice if it were true....but somehow i just cant believe that.....feelings arent like a light switch that you can just turn off and on at random.....there's something else that you arent telling me.....and if you dont want to thats fine.....
someone else: i mean why can't you just trust me on this and stop digging for something...........

me: because i know that there is something else there....i just wish that you would admit.....i think i deserve that......
someone else: what? are u asking if i am seeing someone?

me: i am asking you what happened......thats what i keep saying over and over.......and you wont answer me.......
someone else: ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

me: nevermind.....just forget it
someone else: fine , I am not going fight with you..........

me: im not asking you to fight with me......im asking you to be honest with me, and tell me what happened.....

man, i love maturity.

anyway.

my dad loves to talk. my grandad loved to talk. and i am guessing that his dad loved to talk as well.

its in the genes, and i aint talking about levi's either.

but we also like to listen. or at least i do anyway. i think i do more than most members of my family. which means that they spend more time talking to me than others.

my dad really likes to talk on long trips.

i drove home last night, and he talked. he talked about all kinds of things. the thing that i really loved the most was when he was telling more stories about when he was a young man.

he told me this story about how he sold his hubcaps to this guy one time and he wouldnt pay for them. very funny.

then he told me this story about the first time that he was ever alone with me when i was a baby. it was very weird sitting there listening to him tell me a story about myself that i dont remember. it was hard for me to ever imagine myself as a baby, but i guess i was one once.

apparantly my older brother was having an open house or something at school, and he really wanted my dad to go so that he could see his artwork in the halls or something. did anyone else's school do that? anyway, dad was tired and he told him that he could see it in the morning when he was doing crosswalk duty. so my mother went with him.

it was the first time that i had ever been without my mother, and the first time that i had been alone with my dad.

after a few minutes of her leaving, i started screaming at levels that would put thousands of pre-teen backstreet boys fans to shame.

dad was stressing because he couldnt figure out what was wrong with me. i had been bathed. i had been fed. i had been changed. then, he thought that he had stuck me with a diaper pin or something. so he took it off and checked.

nothing there. and nothing that he did would subside my screaming.

he finally told me in a stern but loving voice that, 'you are just pitching a fit. you're mother and brother will be back in a little while. stop that. we dont have fit pitchers in my house.'

instantly i stopped. then after a little while of looking around for her again and not finding her, i started again.

'stop that. we just dont do that here.'

he said that i stopped it right then and there, and that he never really had any problems out of me as a baby after that.

amazing how kids learn.

thats still a very weird story for me. i wish that i could remember that far back.

i think that my earliest memory is from when i was two. i remember walking with my mother back into the storage room. she was carrying my little brother who was only a few months old. she was going to get one of his bottles.

then my dad went on to tell me about how i was special. no, not special-ed. i dont ride the short bus, thank you very much.

he said that i had something in me that most people dont have. and he's right. i dont know what it is. and i dont know how to explain it without sound like an egotistical idiot. but i am special. i just wish everyone else could see that about me.

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