Wednesday, 13 May 2009

• A Generic Love Story pt. 1

  A Star Shone at the Hour of Our Meeting

  The first time I heard about Clayton, Will was telling me about his "freshman" (in case you don't know the term, if high schools were prisons, someone's "freshman" would be his/her bitch, although in my experience it just means friend who happens to be a freshman, with maybe some good-natured teasing involved). See, his freshman one day noticed that Will's glasses were constantly smudgey, and he was wiping them on his shirt. "I'm bringing you a lense clothe," he said, and the next day, he did. That freshman was, of course, Clayton. I was impressed by his generosity and conscientiousness - the fact that he'd notice something like that at all, and then decide to help Will out, is pretty admirable.

  We talked in an AIM chatroom once with a bunch of other friends, but he left it soon after being invited. He didn't like AIM very much, and had better things to do.

  We both have different stories on the first time we met. Mine is that at the end of the day, I was standing by Will's locker so we could walk out to the busses together, and Clayton came up, excited and smiling about something - or perhaps about everything.

  "Hey! You're Will's girlfriend!" he said. "Hi! I'm Clayton!"

  He spoke with more implied exclamation points than anyone I'd ever heard, and he was so lively. He looked so young, too. There was no way this kid was in high school. I don't like the name Clayton, so I pictured him less young and more... douchebaggy, but he was, honestly, cute. Like a baby. Naturally, I adored him immediately, but it was in the way we adore puppies. If someone had told me I'd end up having a crush on him, I'd have laughed and then had them committed.

  He doesn't remember that happening. His story is that he got invited to Will's house one day. He picked out what to wear very carefully, since he'd be hanging out with older kids. He wanted us to like him. Will's favorite band at the time was Red Hot Chili Peppers, so he wore his new RHCP hoodie over, and upon walking down the stairs to Will's basement, I apparently said, "Wow, Will. You really are turning him into you."

  It's his first memory of me, but I have no recollection of it. It does, however, sound like something I would say, so I'm inclined to believe him.

  Whichever happened first is up in the air. It sounds like mine happened first, but Clayton and I have trouble with names and faces - in the first month of us knowing each other, we probably introduced ourselves twenty times. So it's no indication, and for all I know, his memory could have indeed been the first time I saw him.

  These events took place three years ago, or thereabouts.

  There was no instant attraction - he says there wasn't on his part, either. There was no time-stopping, like in Big Fish. There was no, "I could see myself with him." There wasn't even a, "I guess he's cute."

  Perhaps it would have been more classically romantic if there had been, if I'd just known upon meeting him that he was the one for me, but to my credit, I was blissfully in love with Will at the time. No other guys crossed my mind, and even if Clayton had looked like Robert Downey, Jr., I probably wouldn't have noticed him that way.

  I don't believe in love at first sight. Love is built, not found. Clayton's proof of this. There was nothing to indicate how attached we would become to each other.

  Our friendship was one of mutual good-natured annoyance. He would tease me, or be loud and obnoxious, and I would tackle him, much like the relationship between a brother and sister. He "hated hugs" (I still don't buy that for a second, bijou), so naturally I would cling to him, well aware of how irritating I was being. I'd tease him about being a baby and a girl - everyone did - and until he was at the end of his junior year, we still called him a freshman.

  "I love you, Claytie!" "I hate you, get off of me, stop touching me!!" "Shut up, you big baby, and take it!" was the sound of our regularly scheduled programming. He never stopped laughing, and neither did I.

  I spent two months or so telling Will we should adopt Clayton. He could play catch with Clayton in the backyard and I could let him lick the spoon when I made cookies. I adored Clayton, even going so far as to say I wanted to carry a little Clayton around in my pocket, to take out when I was feeling sad. He was so happy all the time that it was hard to be upset around him. Nothing got this kid down, but it seemed to be a juvenile happiness - almost like he didn't take anything seriously.

  He was nice, but so hyper that he occasionally did something jackass-y without realizing it. He would never intentionally hurt anyone, but we went through a three months stage where everytime we saw each other, he'd end up hurting me somehow, once even spilling a full glass of milk on my lap and then elbowing me in the eye while trying to catch it. He wasn't clumsy, though, just excited, about freaking everything. He was actually quite well coordinated. He could unicycle. Juggle. Yo-yo. He was learning drums. He was an all around cool kid, but that's what he was to me - and to most people. A kid. My friend. Almost my little brother. That's all.

  I liked Clayton very much, and was excited when he showed up, but if you had told me over the first four months of us knowing each other that he'd become the most important person in the world to me, I frankly wouldn't have believed you.

  Sometimes love sneaks up on you, I suppose.

  To be continued. (I wrote it all out already, but it was a HELLA long entry, so... I decided to split it up and add some more details so it was more interesting and less hefty.)

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