An update some few of you will be able to understand.
I just had an odd request from a high school speech friend of mine. I said hi and the first thing he did was ask me for the whereabouts of Caleb. Now, I realize that in high school I was the only one who knew half the time where the boy was or why. I realize that I stuck by him for nearly two years even though that junkie wasn't exactly the best thing to have in my life. He didn't have anyone else, because no one else would have been able to handle being with him. No one else deserved it, so I stayed instead and everyone knew it.

But two years after the fact... apparently people still expect it to be true. Joe seemed... sad that he hadn't spoken to Caleb in two years, and that he'd never probably see him again. I told Joe that I cut ties with him after graduation. This was largely due to certain actions on Caleb's part after graduation that really don't need to be hashed over again.

It's just strange to have that reminder again. Even weirder is that it comes after a very.... odd dream that I had last night. Something about Caleb and a non-descript friend of his waiting for me in a men's room to rape me. Then I tried to get a cop to go with me and he asked me if it could wait because he was taking a break. Odd behavior for a policeman.

Maybe I'll try to think more about what that dream means, especially when you factor in the introduction of the topic into a totally unrelated conversation. I'm either superstitious, fatalistic, or simply don't believe in coincedence. However you want to see it, this is strange to me.

If nothing else, it reminds me of how much better off I am now than I was in high school. I don't regret anything that I did. I don't regret the (arguably undeserved) devotion to someone like Caleb. I forget who explained it to me this way, but she was right when she told me, "You're the most important person in his life. I just don't think that you're the most important thing." For a while that was enough. It never will be enough again, though. I had never been with anyone who told me I was beautiful without the obvious motive of squirming his way into my pants, or anyone who sincerely told me that he loved me. Most of the boys I've known have loved me the way a smoker loves nicotine gum. A pale substitute for what they really want, but for now it's better than what they've lost.

I won't say that they didn't have their reasons. Caleb's first love died of a drug overdose. He watched her die. Link...well, there was Tara. I shouldn't have to explain it that much further. I can't blame them, but I can say that I'll never sacrifice myself to people like them again.

Wilt thou answer?