Jenn, Jill, Billy & Me
Jill constantly complains it’s cold in her room, but it’s not. No college dorm room is ever cold. There’s always too many people and, too little space. At least compared to mine. The second floor is much more humid than the first. I’m rarely in her room, and she’s rarely in mine. Come to think of it, we don’t have much face-to-face interaction anymore. That’s kind of sad.
I finally muster up the confidence to text her, she tells me to swing by. It’s mid-afternoon, 90-something degrees outside. She opens the door for me. Her room is a little too messy for my liking: wardrobe doors swung open, sweatshirts are scattered across the room. The room is lived-in, for sure.
She goes to lie down in her bed, with the sunlight hitting her black hair perfectly; a turquoise throw blanket covers a navy plush blanket on top of her. Her pink Vineyard Vines sweatshirt, relatively bright and flamboyant in any other situation, is dulled in the liveliness of her room.
This is the first time we’ve sat down and had a conversation in a while. Jill in her bed, I in a chair, sitting parallel with her.
“So how are you?” she asks. A seemingly normal and easy question to answer from everyone else, but not from Jill.
She’s not asking, “What’s up?” she’s asking, “Is everything ok?” “Tell me what you’re thinking.” I can’t answer either of those questions. Both have to do with her.
She loves to paint. It’s her thing, and she’s extremely good at it. Jill loves quotes too. I mean, LOVES quotes. Bad combination for a girl with limited wall space. Canvases coat her room, filled with inspiration: “She believed she could, and so she did.” “An arrow can only be shot by pulling it backward. So when life drags you back with difficulties just imagine that it’s going to launch you into something great.” “Life is too short to spend it at war with yourself.” “Do not avoid what your heart tells you in order to ease that which your mind fears.”
Then there is a huge, four-foot by two-foot poster of all her favorite album covers. Everyone from Aerosmith to Tupac. What isn’t covered by canvas or album covers is covered with pictures. They surround the two large windows on her side of the room. She probably wishes the windows weren’t there. That would mean more wall space. 4” x 6” pictures of friends, family and everything in between fill in the gaps. None of me, though.
We haven’t talked since she told me she had a boyfriend. Billy. I’m mad both because she has a boyfriend, and because I actually really like him. He’s a good guy. Funny, smart, witty, and he’ll probably treat her right. But it’s not me. Since then I don’t know how to talk to her. Things are different. They feel different. I miss her. I probably think of her at least three times a day. Just something simple. A song, a car, a quote, a movie, anything can remind me of her. Single Jill and I spoke all day, every day. I’m not afraid that I won’t be able to talk to her every day because she’s with someone. I’m afraid that the context will be different. Maybe we won’t be able to talk about relationships, love, and life the same way we used to because our perspectives have changed. And that saddens me. Talking to Jill was always the best part of my day. I’m not prepared to lose that.
Her roommate was in the room too. Jennifer. Jenn’s half of the room was largely eaten by Jill’s canvases. Some bare salmon wall is left. But even Jenn’s half is largely covered with pictures too. Perfectly placed to look like one large heart. Jenn’s half of the room represents her as a whole. She’s one of the sweetest and most down to earth people I’ve ever met. Cool quotes, relaxed posters of beach scenes simply tell you who Jenn is. While Jill’s mish-moshed ratio of pictures to canvas shows both her popularity, including how much people absolutely adore her, as well as her awkwardness and quirkiness. My favorite quality of hers.
I never told her, but Jill found out how I felt. Three months later, after being absorbed by schoolwork and the bustle of college life we haven’t talked. And she won’t talk to me now. I don’t even know why not.
I saw Jenn rushing to class as I was walking home. She was late, 1:02 p.m., but she stopped me and pulled me aside anyway. “Why didn’t you tell me you liked Jill?” Jenn said, sounding pretty pissed off. “I… I don’t know, that was a long time ago, I… How do you know?” I shiver as I ask Jenn the question. “Jill knows and she doesn’t know what to do, she misses you, that’s all she said.” Jenn shivers when she finishes speaking too, I bet she’s just cold.
Maybe it’s because she’s afraid I’ll hit on her. Or maybe because she wishes I had just told her so that we could move on. Or maybe it’s because she felt the same way…
I don’t feel that way anymore, though. I’ve moved on. She is still fixated on something, though. We walk by each other as acquaintances. Not even. Two people who met that one time at that one place during that one thing. A simple head nod, a slight wave of the hand and we’re off. It’s pathetic. From what we were, to what we are now.
She’s never going to truly know how I felt. And that’s ok with me. If the feelings aren’t there anymore does she really need to know? It’s her handling of the situation that really put me off. That helped me the most with getting over her. The immaturity, the mishandling. Hey, I fucked up too along the way, but at least I tried to backpedal. Multiple times.
So here I sit, in my room, with blank walls and wallow in what could have been. I stare at my iPhone screen and it stares back at me. I scroll through old pictures, going three months back, looking at happiness once again as it stares right back at me. I flick down a few more times, Jill took pictures on my phone. Selfies. Just smiling, goofy faces, the same ones we could make across the room in our class, in a meeting, sometimes just alone to break the silence.
So now I want her back. I want her around. She is still sunshine and rainbows believe it or not. Everyone loves her now, and I used to be the only one who did. I still do, somewhere deep down. It’s just not visible. These pictures make me want to rekindle with her soon. I don’t really know how yet, but I’ll figure it out. She’s worth figuring out.