Great ideas backfire if pursued too heavily.
So last Wednesday, I thought it would be a great idea to make a documentary of meeting people from the past. I had been inspired by a film about a guy\’s ex-girlfriends. \”Self-indulgent,\” our instructor had said.
But I went ahead with my plan and had babbled endlessly with Karen and Thomas down Telegraph. I imagined the scenarios, the questions I would ask. But how would I accomplish this?
So this night approached when I finally would call Jason. Jason Chen. Before I was troubled by the fact that I may succumb to my old ways of always trying to be right. And then missing the point and I would be the one that looked bad on camera. I swallowed hard while my fingers tittered in nervousness. It took several minutes until I could convince myself to begin recording.
When I pressed the red button to record, I ran back to the sofa and pressed the green button on my cell to call. I had received Jason\’s number several weeks ago when he tried to talk to me outside the apartment. At that time, I thought that the conversation we had was perfect. I never was that bitter at that time, never deceiving, just myself…just open.
Well unfortunately, it didn\’t work out that way. I began recording, struggling with the mic, not quite sure how I would make sure that the mic would pick up the conversation on the cell and me speaking. So the conversation was ok at first. But I sensed how almost futile and how contrived it was. I had planned out a speech and was able to get Jason to aquiesce to an interview. Then satisfied, I walked to the camera and stopped recording.
I had intended to end the phone call at that point, saying that I would contact him later to set up the interview. But due to my curiousity and perhaps his too, we pressed on. This resulted in a 51 minute conversation where I felt that I was put into a vulnerable positon. This wasn\’t what I had wanted. But I suppose it could not have been avoided.
Jason accused me of treating people like experiments. I agreed, saying that I was apathetic. Then I submitted to the idea that…perhaps…just perhaps…that I was putting up a stone wall of thick stone protecting myself. Self-defense. That it was all put up because Jason had hurt me in the past.
But really, I had just plucked this from thin air. I didn\’t really believe what I said. And I certainly didn\’t believe that he hurt me. I was apathetic at that point. I didn\’t really care. It was sort of like the rendevous I had with Adam where I only tried to provoke him rather than talking..as friends.
Eventually, Jason got around to the dreaded discussion of what a \”friend\” is supposed to mean. I always heard the same arguments. At this stage of my life, I wanted to avoid it. With most people that I want to continue \”normal\” relations with, I always try to avoid the topic. Always try to be normal. But here I was, sucked back in. And due to my desire to be right, I didn\’t want to get involved anymore. I told Jason quite bluntly that I knew all about it. And cliched as it was, Jason responded that I didn\’t know it all. That there was more. Oh whatever, that\’s such the appropriate answer. I could have given the same response in the melodramatic moment.
And so it was like that for a long time. and at another dramatic moment that wasn\’t oscar-worthy, he said, \”I will have my hand open.\”
Open and waiting. Cliched. I had to admire his strong beliefs and ambition. It was truthful of him. But I was wary of this. I was sort of tired of the philosophical discussion. What was the point of having such a conversation again? It always led us to the beginning. I told him that I felt resentful and ill at ease. Bluntly, I said, \”I would rather not have this conversation.\”
But alas, people keep going. I questioned his comment. \”Hand reaching out to help me from a fall or a hand guiding me back to a path?\”
\”Just an open hand,\” he responded.
I wasn\’t too happy with this. Nothing moved me as it should in a movie. I wasn\’t filming though. I didn\’t care anymore, and that perhaps will be my downfall.
I told him that if someone referred to him that I would only refer to him as \”someone I used to know\”. Not as a friend. I said that a \”friend\” was defined where both people would call each other as a friend. And if I didn\’t call him a friend, then there wasn\’t a friendship. This was an abnormal friendship. Or perhaps just an abnormal relationship of aquaintance.
Eventually he said, \”I don\’t know about that interview…\”
\”I don\’t know about it either,\” I said, a sense of regret creeping into my voice. I don\’t know why I wanted to do it. Perhaps it was just my desire to provoke someone.
And so I ended the phone conversation with a \”we\’ll see.\”
I closed my cell and gave a mad groan as I threw my cell onto the sofa. The cell bounced once and slipped under a pillow.