Origins of Blue Lines manuscript…Part 2.2
Disclaimer – Before I continue, I would like to make two very important points in regard to my material and to anyone’s feelings. Because of my intellectual property, and my goal for this to begin my being published, I have to be vague in many areas of the story’s actual content. I would like to add that should anyone be offended by ANYTHING that I go forward with: 1) if it will offend you, please read objectively, my goal is not and has never been to embarrass or disrespect anyone; 2) although I am explaining why Blue Lines was written, this is a public forum and names will be omitted to protect the innocent; 3) if you know me now, and did not then, this also applies as this relates to why I wrote my work.
Summer came and went, she existed as a figment of my imagination of a reminder that I missed out on this beautiful woman, but let me temper this by stating, I knew that she was from the other side of the country, and to the best of my limited knowledge, she had gone back with no plans to return, I could live with that. I continued to take classes throughout the summer, finding outlets in activities to still combat the hole left in my soul by the passing of my Grandfather. By the time the school year rolled back around, I was a member of student government (yes, it’s relevant) and part of the whole welcoming committee for the incoming students, and as I crossed the small campus to head to the gym for Student I.D. duty, I was shocked to see her walking the campus in this blue dress. I half waved, to which I got no acknowledgement, and did not think twice about it and headed to my post. As we cranked out I.D.’s, she finally makes her way in, notices me to my surprise, and we have a brief conversation that was more substantive than the car ride from the previous school year. “Yes,” I think looking toward the year. “That’s the one,” I smiled. Or so I thought. Not too long after I found out she had a boyfriend…those thoughts ended as quickly as they had begun. I’m not sure if it was a statement in passing, “my boyfriend…” or from someone else, “she has a boyfriend,” I just “knew” that was a wrap. But again, I think too much.
It began as friendly conversation,
but you were crafty in your approach
I had thought about you briefly,
So over the next months/quarters somehow we become inseparable at school. What initially was nearly every day, we were posted up by the bench on campus, or under a covering on rainy days. She would even come in to the Student Government office, when I had to have office hours and I was in there alone. I knew what was happening with me, and that was further evidenced by an event (non book material, ha, ha) when she knocked on the closed door during a student government meeting and pointed me out…and I left the meeting. Really??? Trying to be as vague as I can be, yes I fell, I fell hard, but I also held a certain concept deep within my heart. To the best of my knowledge, her heart or affection belonged to someone else. No matter how much I may have thought (that’s the 33 year old me talking) that she felt the same for me, I could not, in good conscience, attempt to take her from him, because once that was done, what’s to keep her from being taken from me?
Therein lied the conundrum, a relationship that was limited to us and at most to those school acquaintances, that to any outsider would look like a couple. We had shared daily rituals, we could be caught sitting together, talking, “puffing on Blacks” almost consistently. We could anticipate each other’s actions (I’ll leave that at that, not to overstate it). We also ended up taking some classes together. Now within our circle, people would slowly ask what was going on? I was asking myself what I was doing. But just as we were nearly inseparable at school, we had no contact outside of the confines of that campus.
The Definition of Insanity…
When you are aware everyday that your actions are limited or predicated on the fact that you will not act (ask her out, further your relationship beyond the boundaries of school), it is reasonably insane to continue along the same path that you (me) do not see that you will have a light at the end of the tunnel. Yes, there were days that I “knew” I was going to make my advance, but even at my best moments, I never pushed it forward. I did not want to lose something intangible, that I did not even have. Conversely, I also added into the resources that allowed for me to write incessantly in the first days that my manuscript started to take shape. In writing Blue Lines being able to draw from both real experience, and events that I played out in my head, and/or the unexpressed plans or advanced that I had failed to make.
For fear of rambling…(there’s a beautiful mess inside my head tonight) this ends this week’s installment of the origins of Blue Lines. Next week 7/7/08 (another damn game day), revelations and process.
The manuscript Blue Lines is a fictional period piece that takes place at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill between the years of 1997 – 1998. Loosely based on true events, and experiences during that time, told through the eyes and voice of the main female protagonist, a freshman first attending the school.
Always feel free to give your comments, and/or suggestions.