An Hour On The Phone With Lyssa (Part 3)

Lyssa Rings After The Show

For the rest of my night at home I did continue to write endlessly in my memoirs. However, there did come a time when Lyssa called me up and a conversation for the next hour began. Knowing that Ally Mcbeal had just finished I figured only one person would time their call as such, Lyssa. Starting in our usual way, I gathered that Lyssa wanted to unleash all her little events for the week, in her subtle naïve tones.

For a while now I have loathed conversation with Lyssa because I knew she would speak about things I didn’t want to hear but she would be unaware of my dislike. Common sense would tell you that I wouldn’t want to hear about who Lyssa got onto and how she had the greatest weekend because it would shine a light to the envy deep inside of me.

Only recently have I developed a new concept of dislike, where in the past I hated the thought of conversation whereas now I chat with Lyssa, keeping this obviousness in the back of my mind but knowing Lyssa doesn’t mean to insult me and it will never go away. No matter how much I tell Lyssa that I don’t want to hear certain parts of her glory, it will go in one ear and out the other, thus, giving way to my knowledge of her naiveté.

Penelope And Naqi Reunite

This conversation with Lyssa did stem into many areas of pretentious unfolding that to Lyssa would be an oblivion to my conflict. How is Lyssa to know what I do and don’t want to hear. Well, one, I don’t want to hear any good news about Naqi but in this case, I did ask from curiosity. Wondering why I had seen Lyssa and Penelope being the best of buddies as they hopped off the train on Friday, I was intrigued to know if Lyssa was just getting carried away with anxiety or if Penelope had forgiven Lyssa but not Naqi for his misdeed.

“Is Naqi back with Penelope yet” I asked curiously and to Lyssa, it was funny that I mentioned it because she had a story to tell me. Both of them did get back together as it so happened when Lyssa headed to the Catholic Club on Friday with Penelope. Trying to figure out how we couldn’t have seen each other, Lyssa explained that Penelope felt the urgent desire to call up Naqi, asking “I need to see you now, we have to talk”.

The fear of being left alone was far too great for Penelope and I believe that she is just like Tamsen, can’t be without a boyfriend as she can’t be so ostentatiously happy. That night they did meet and I can’t remember the location but Lyssa was made to drive someone’s car because everyone was drunk. Lyssa herself was tipsy but she didn’t spare any personal glorification as she explained her driving a manual in the wet with near perfection. So there you have it, to my condemnation, Naqi and Penelope got back together, further prolonging a chapter of my complacency and adding future articles of animus and envy.

Nothing To Brag About

The conversation digressed somewhat to myself as I felt to glorify my life the only way I knew how, talk of fashion. Seriously, what’s in my life that I can brag about or even speak with an amiable tone. The finer things of my life have slowly been taken over by work which gives me a completely different feeling of satisfaction and being part of a family. Gone are the days of playing the piano, poetical justice, keeping myself fit and the extinction of my nights out, having fun and going clubbing are forebodingly obvious in their lack of entity.

The only basis for my glorification left standing is such pleasure in the clothes I buy. The displeasure of hearing of Lyssa’s seemingly braggart conversation got the best of me in which I noted how she always sounded like she was boasting. “Do you know what the word pretentious means” I asked Lyssa and as she had no clue I remarked “Well, you’re pretentious in a naïve sort of way”. When further explaining what I meant Lyssa snapped “So you think I’m stupid then”.

Taking a couple of steps back, I explained my stance to Lyssa illustrating her being ostentatious by speaking of such things like her getting onto her 20th guy when she’s 20 years old. “Why don’t you just get onto twenty guys in the one night” I noted in a cynical way. “Do you think I’m a slut” she stammered and again, I had to explain my cynicism.

Explaining to Lyssa how I loathed when she spoke about her life because it seemed like she was bragging unwittingly, she commented “Well what am I going to talk about then, that’s our whole conversation”. Lyssa was well aware of my hatred for such softly spoken tones that pleaded envy sit beside her resonance. It was in this time or rather earlier that I finally answered one of Lyssa’s first asked questions, “Why don’t you ever call me anymore”.

Explaining that I brooded anxiety before a call in which I wasn’t sure if Lyssa would be home or how she would answer the phone, I wasn’t comfortable with being the person to make a call. Figuring that Lyssa handled the anxiety of picking up the phone and calling, I’ve always left it in her hands to do so. In addition, I would never feel the need to call Lyssa because I didn’t want to hear her braggart conversations and speaking with her in each blue moon she called was enough for me.

If I call Lyssa then I have to worry about carrying the conversation throughout whereas, if Lyssa calls me, I tend to take control of the conversation more. This tends to be so because I emphasize with Lyssa calling me the anxiety she would have and therefore tend to consolidate her fears with my dominant reactions. When Lyssa calls I make her feel welcome enough until she starts her ostentatious cycle in which I just switch off from conversation and keep agreeing with ho’s and hums. Lyssa just handles it better to my knowledge, that’s all it comes down to…

Her Life And Mine

From this conversation and stemming into our chatting about my clothes, Lyssa mentioned that I too was bragging about my fashion sense. Comparing what Lyssa had in her life to be happy about compared to my lone euphoria with clothes shopping, that was my only front. Lyssa had many things in her life that I should and do feel envious about. A stack of friends, Naqi still looming around like a bad smell, continually heading out to great clubs, meeting guys, getting onto guys, great days at work and overall, a good life.

These are the twilight years of Lyssa and I should be having the same enjoyment but I am less for the acquaintances I have. In some way, I am jealous that Lyssa is having a better time after we had broken up, sad and glad in a way that we never got the chance to mutually enjoy what we both love best, clubs.

Bringing out the tool of my empathy, I explained to Lyssa how I’ve always wanted to wear club clothes since a couple of years back. Back in the day I used to tease people who headed out to clubs all dressed up but now I realize I was teasing just like Shawn and Keith did, because I wanted to be like them. Just as Naqi puts shit on everyone else because he really wants to be blaming himself, there is a similarity in whom I was and what I wanted to be.

The envy was continuous through my life, fearful to make that big step from a hommie to clubbing clothes. In addition, I didn’t have money to begin my odyssey and even if I did, I wouldn’t feel comfortable unless I had a couple of labels stashed away in my cupboards. Being involved with Lyssa didn’t help me either as I was fearful to come out of such a shell, built durably by my continuously bagging people at clubs, saying I would never go there.

Well, that was only envy because I didn’t have the money or courage to step out. With Lyssa helping me buy my first piece of club clothing, the wheels were slowly rolling and only until these last two or three months have my comfortable and resplendent feelings increased with the quality of clothes I wear. The self-conscious nature of my former self was slowly starting to lift its burdensome hold and finally, I was becoming the man I wanted to be.

Time To Leave The Bad Seeds

The commonality of the crowd I hung around with was finally parted, splitting two opinions against each other. Here was Jett, Tyler and Ace appreciating my bold step and here were Shawn, Keith and Tatton condemning me instead of condoning. This love of clubbing has been realized at the right time and now I must ask myself “Where do I want to go from here”. People like Keith and Ralf are weighing me down with their backpedaling bullshit and people like Tyler are eager to go out but are affected by other decisions throughout the group.

The objective gayness has almost ceased as that period of adjusting is over. However, with Keith being pussy whipped, Ralf being lost in his persistent intentions and everyone else unable to reach a commanding decision, I am lost to what direction I should take. There are many paths I could follow but I know that a more viable option would be to leave the brunt of this group behind, the bad seeds if you will. People like Shawn, Tyler and Ace seem alright to me but others seem to have an adverse affect on the enjoyment of my weekends.

Therefore, should I look toward friends at work, reopening associations with Johnnie or patching up ties with the acquaintances I have now, subjecting myself to a life of Chevy’s. Oh the woes of changing a lifestyle. Once pessimistic and still I am, but that fear will turn into optimism and before you know it, I won’t have a hard-to-approach attitude. Rather, I’ll be pulling in them girls with my confidence and let me say, if I had half the confidence I’m dreaming up in my anticipation, I would have a phone number every single night on the train ride home.

The Canadian Guy

Allowing me to be content about my only joy in life, Lyssa moved onto some more conversation regarding her braggart adventures. “Did you know I have email” she asked me. Having heard this tune before I knew that it had something to do with the Canadian guy she met two or so weeks ago who worked behind a bar. “Did you email that American guy did you” I asked Lyssa who answered rather agreeably.

Her passion to go to such extents and knowing that Lyssa won’t even go out of her way by waiting five minutes to meet me for lunch, I knew something was fishy. Unsure as to what she wrote to this guy, all I know is that he wrote back to her from some other country. This passion leads me to wonder how far Lyssa went with this guy when they got onto each other. After all these guys she’s been with and how she had slept next to Ralf, one must think that they’ve done more than just kiss.

These are only curious allegations but I feel that for Lyssa to be so hung up on this Canadian means that she had a wonderful time with him. I don’t believe that they just kissed or went as far as intercourse outdoors but I will believe that he touched her in the right places, possibly placing his finger upon the lining of her clothes where best it would suit her loins. This doesn’t faze me the slightest but I would like to know, for the sake of these memoirs, how far Lyssa has really gone…

Lyssa Mentions Radley

Through to the nearing end of our conversation Lyssa decided to open her naïve mouth again by noting that she found someone better, better than the Canadian guy. Having heard this tune before I asked out of curiosity who it might be. “Oh, you’d know who he is, we’ll you wouldn’t know him but you’d know of him” she uttered. Trying to wonder who it was I sat shocked for a second as she exclaimed “Radley.” Standing aghast, I stammered “What, my Imad” and was somewhat relieved from my animosity when she noted it was Radley. Still, this didn’t please me any more than it brought a bitterness to my tongue upon speaking.

I knew that when Lyssa had notes she went to see a movie earlier in the night it would have been with a guy and evidently, she headed out with Radley. Asking me if she thought it was the real thing I answered my honest truth. “How long has it been since he last called you up” I asked and as she noted it has been two months or more I then replied “I figure that he’s got nothing else better to get to so he thought ‘Might as well give Lyssa another go’”.

Silence ensued upon the line as I asked “Did I say something wrong” knowing well enough I had partially said that knowingly. The reason I was so straight forward and cruel was because I didn’t want Lyssa creating a bigger connection with Penelope and I made her well aware of that through our conversation. “You don’t need to associate yourself with Naqi and Penelope any more than you do now”

I noted to a sad and despondent Lyssa but then again, she should know I would grant one sided comments to my favor. If I can turn Lyssa off Radley then I will, anyone else, I won’t care. I don’t have anything personally against Radley but I just hate the thought of Lyssa going out with a Leb, knowing well enough how they treat women.

A Schoolboy Boyfriend

The conversation ended after an hour on that sadder note but I did cheer Lyssa up somewhat before hanging up. Somewhere in our conversation Lyssa thought to say “When are me and you going to find ourselves a boyfriend and girlfriend”. As we got to talking about ages in which we would go out with someone Lyssa was brazen and serious enough to note “I would go out with a younger guy, a schoolboy”. Prying to her oddity, she noted that it would be cool to go out with someone who was still at school.

Delving deeper, Lyssa informed me that it had nothing to do with sex or his naïve purity and boyish charms. To me, it sounded like Lyssa wanted to get away from the complexity of a proper relationship, so she could hold the most superiority in a relationship. This I feel is due to the amount of stress placed on Lyssa to perform to male expectations normally not seen in a younger man. For example, a younger man would be elated that he was going out with an older woman seeing her through rose-colored glasses instead of the judging way we perceive them.

When I would get frustrated that Lyssa won’t be doing her fair share in an attempt to spruce up sexuality, a younger guy would just be happy there’s sex in his relationship. It’s not until he’s matured that he will start to realize, “Hey, there’s more to a relationship than monotony” in which Lyssa has to then hide her insecurities in the oblivious rapture of another younger man. Insecurities, we all have them in different proportions, some more than others.

Catching Up On Chronology

Conversation with Lyssa came to an end around 10:30 p.m. in which I picked up back from where I left my chronology. I never did recover from my conversation in the same sorts as what I was writing but I did to some effect fill part of the gap. I can just never seem to find the opportune of timely nights and I can never exceed chronology by more than one night. Tonight is no different as again I keep myself awake until midnight.

Being one minute now into midnight I must get to sleep and have myself a tight six hours of sleep before waking up for my last day of the workweek tomorrow. The weekend holds much curiosity, much uncertainty and many doubts. However, I do know that Jett will be heading over on Saturday and if all else fails, I’m heading to Imad’s house on Sunday so we can get together again. Before I capitulate from hither, let me just note one more point.

Lately, in the past month or two, I have increasingly brought out the notion of my memoirs to everyone. Back in the day I used to keep it concealed and many people had an idea that I wrote in these pages but had no clue as to what extent. Everyone must have figured that I wrote a couple of lines once in a blue moon but if they had seen the depiction like Shawn had a chance to, they too would be shocked into change.

Lyssa knows about the extent of my diary to some degree as does Shawn but everyone else is now being brought out into the open. No more do I hide the thought of my diary as Ralf, Tatton, Keith and almost anyone else that asks knows. Most people at work also know but again, to what extent they have no clue, that is until they saw the proof…