Unending Cycle

What happened thereafter was only a repeat of the past. I called Jackie and she would talk to me for a little bit. Then, she would have to go because her sister or mom had to use the phone, or some other reason. I would do it again the next day, but after a few calls and short conversations, I would stop calling.

Something would then recharge my brain and give me a reason to call her again. The same things would happen. I called, she talked, and then she went. I would give up just because I no longer saw any point in calling if there was nothing happening because of it.

That cycle continued for the most part of the remainder of the year. My junior year of high school began with the same cycle happening over and over. And so that was the year 2000.

Towards the end of that year, and around the first few days of 2001, I suddenly remembered that Jackie’s birthday was coming up again. I wondered to myself whether I should do something; maybe I should get her another present or maybe just give her another call. I then realized that I should probably just send her a birthday card—nothing too significant.

I visited the local Hallmark store and picked one out. I signed it after having written a few lines that I thought would be relevant to say to her. I do not remember exactly what I wrote, but I do recall that it had a certain tone towards it that made it quite obvious what I was still thinking about.

I sent the card to her home address, which was still in one of my notebooks after having written it down to go to her birthday party the year before. I waited for a response and went about my business.

A day or two after I sent the birthday card, I received an email from Jackie. That was a typical response from her—the email. She never once called me in return or made any other form of contact except for an email. This time around, however, “You’ve got mail!” was not my afternoon greeting. AOL was out of the house. MSN was the new provider. There were no more chat rooms to meet new people and only a few old “buddies” remained on the list.

Apparently, Jackie received the card the day after I sent it. Snail-mail was actually really fast—that was what went on in my head as I opened the message. It was a short letter of her surprise as to what was still inside my heart. I could not forget her and still hoped that there was more to our relationship. She realized that after having read the birthday message and did not know what to do, I suppose.

After that, we chatted more online, but not excessively. We shared a few words every now and again, and then I called her again, just like it was protocol. Again, nothing happened. We never met in person again. We just infrequently chatted or conversed over the phone. But, like all the other times, I got tired of nothing happening. I stopped calling and she stopped showing up online. That was just how it was: on and off. When it was on, however, it was just dim.

At one time, I actually remember asking her out on a date. She said yes, but with my luck and her nature, which I could not understand, the date never happened. She ended up taking a rain check on me because of having to go visit her grandmother, I think. I suspected that she was lying, but I could not confirm it. I just had to trust her words, as I always did. I never brought it up again after that.

My junior year of high school passed, and the cycle continued, except that the occurrences happened farther and farther apart from each other. It had been my toughest high school year, taking a myriad of advanced placement courses to join the other over-achievers. I came out of it with aces, and then got another free summer of idleness.

During my senior year, the cycle continued, but it happened less and less—I probably only called her twice or a few times that year. The conversations were so insignificant that I cannot even remember if I really did call her at all.

At the end of the year, around the month of May, badminton season had ended and our team held a banquet. I had been on the team for the last three years of my high school career. It was fun and I was better at it than basketball. I know it may be a “nerdy” sport by U.S. standards, but the way we played made it highly competitive. Anyway, the banquet was held at a Japanese restaurant called Tokyo Tokyo, two exits down the freeway from our high school.

I attended with my doubles partner and best friend Christian. The rest of the team came as well. No one had been absent. It was quite an interesting lunch because of a few new things that happened just recently. My friend Christian had hooked up with one of the younger members of the team named Nancy who had been a year under us. Her friend, Mary-Anne, on the other hand, had this crush on me. The reason I knew that was because of two things: my friend Christian had told me by way of Mary-Anne’s confession to him, and then Mary-Anne had told me herself. That relationship is another story, however.

While sitting at the banquet waiting for our food to be served, I was joined by Mary-Anne, who sat to my right, purposely. I felt somewhat uncomfortable around her initially because she had annoyed me earlier that season, talking with Christian as an excuse to get near me. I did not know exactly how I was supposed to interact with her, with both of us knowing that she liked me.

To avoid any awkward conversation and fill the air, I grabbed my cell phone and called Jackie. We had started talking again just around that time, so the call was routine, although out of the blue.

Jackie picked up the phone and asked who it was. After I explained who was calling, she then informed me that she was quite busy—she was going to watch a movie with her friend. Her friend, as it turned out, was a guy by the name of George maybe; I do not recall his name, but it really did not matter. After a few words of “Hello” and “How are you?” Jackie reminded me that she had been busy and was actually about to leave. She said that she’d call back, or maybe she had asked me to call her back. I just accepted her request to hang up and informed her that I would call her back.

After I hung up the phone, however, the first thing that I thought about was not calling her back. That had become the last straw with me. I was not angry with the matter; I was simply tired of it. I took the message that she was pushing me away, or avoiding me somehow, so I gave her her space. If she did not want anything to do with me, then I was going to grant her her wish. I resolved with myself that I was not ever going to call her again—ever. That was to be the last time that I ever dialed her number.

I went back to our little banquet and found some things to have fun about. I told myself that I was going to forget her from that moment on and live my life without ever thinking about her again. It had been the only real resolution that I had ever agreed to uphold. Nothing was going to make me undo my resolve.

That was what I thought, however, because once I started college that fall of 2002, I came into the university not realizing that life was inherently unpredictable. Little did I know that I was about to be handed some fruit from the tree of knowledge.