December 20, 2000 I met a girl named Rachel Robertson. She was dating a good
friend of mine and they came and picked me up from my house to go Christmas
Caroling at another of ours mom's bosses house. (the boss had everything so as
a Christmas present she got together her son and his close friends to go
caroling at his house as his Christmas present basically) She was a very
bizarre and amazingly fascinating woman, not to mention fairly attractive. I
was pretty sick of dating people at the moment so I had less than no interest in
But we had a weird bond between us that is unlike anything I can describe. It
wasn't being 'drawn' to each other it just... was...
I got her number from someone and tried to call her from time to time but her
line was always busy. The next time we saw each other was at another mutual
friend's birthday party a couple of days later and by this point in time I had
memorized her phone number (I'm really good with numbers, not a stalker) and the
bond continued to grow when she said "Hold on, let me call my parents" and I
said "In case you've forgotten your phone number it's 713-###-####" and she just
looked at me with the most curious of glances. After she got off the phone we
started talking. I found out she was a freshmen (I was a junior) but was
definitely older (her soul? I guess that's the best way to describe it) than
her body allowed for.
January 27, 2001 was her 16th birthday, feel on a Saturday, therefore her
birthday party. It was a costume party and me being the music lover I am came
as Phantom of the Opera. She absolutely loved Andrew Lloyd Webber, which I
didn't know, and the connection just intensified. At this point in time her and
Gentry had broken up and were still just friends. Throughout the night as we
talked, kind of isolating ourselves from the rest of the party, I realized where
our connection point lay. In clinical depression. Not necessarily the best of
bonds, but a very strong one. She also started to cuddle with me a bit and it
made me a bit uncomfortable.
The next day was the Super bowl and every year the trio (a group of 4 of us,
[don't ask] Disgruntled, Gentry, Richard(dick), and myself) had a super bowl
party where we never paid a damn bit of attention to the super bowl, but just
used it as an excuse to get together. We didn't have a place to throw the party
and earlier in the year I had briefly mentioned it Rachel and asked if we could
use her place in a joking manner. She jokingly accepted and we had a laugh
about it. When we were desperately looking for a place to throw it I figured
I'd call Rachel and see if she could get it together at her place. She was able
to so we all headed over there.
The cuddling with me continued as she endlessly was fondling my hair (which I
massive enjoyed as people playing with my hair is a very relaxing and enjoyable
thing). I had to go home relatively early that night as it was a school night
and my mom was pretty strict about that stuff for my then 17 year old boyness.
When I got home my phone rang shortly thereafter and it was Rachel, with the
party still in full swing at her place. She wanted to make sure I made it home
ok and then proceeded to ask me out.
I turned her down because A)I wasn't really looking for a girlfriend and B)I
didn't want even the remote chance of hurting Gentry since they had been dating
about 2 weeks ago. The next day I went to school and when I got home later that
night I received another phone call from Rachel asking me why I said no. After
a 2 hour or so discussion I finally said something to the effect of "Alright,
tell you what. We'll try this out, but if stuff goes wrong no hard feelings
ok?" and like that, January 29, 2001 became the first important day of the rest
of my life.
January 31 became the next. That Wednesday I got a call from her parents
letting me know that Rachel had been hospitalized for her depression it was
getting so bad and that if I wanted to break up with her that now would be the
time and to let them know so it could avoid further pain since we were so new in
the relationship. I laughed at their offer and said that I'd take my chances
and do what I could to help her through. I think they appreciated it as I
myself had once been hospitalized (twice actually) and knew what it was like. I
called her every day she was in the hospital. I wrote her letters every day she
was in the hospital. The day she got out I skipped out early from school and
went over to her house to spend the afternoon with her. That upcoming weekend
(Feb. 9-11 [fri.-sun.]) we spent together nearly in its entirety. She came with
me to a very special place to me and on Friday she told me she loved me. I told
her I loved her too, and I did.
Over the next couple of months it was really up and down with us. We broke up
and would get back together in the same conversations. We did all the stupid
high school dating catastrophes and glories. We loved much more and harder than
any couple I've ever seen, and fought more bitterly and with great hostility
then France and England ever could have. This relationship was the epitome of a
roller coaster ride. I wouldn't trade anything that happened for the world
In July I went off to a week long retreat up at Perdue in Indiana and when I got
back something had changed within me. I just wasn't as passionate about
anything as I once was. I felt more calm and in control. This, instead of
helping our relationship, caused further friction between us, when finally we
decided that what was needed to help save our relationship was sex. In the
early morning of August 10th, we both lost our virginity while simultaneously,
unbeknownst to us, killed our relationship permanently.
The next month was rocky at best when I finally said fuck it all and ended the
relationship and instead of letting myself hurt through that I found another
woman immediately and fucked her over and over and over. That was my
relationship with Debbi. Debbi and Rachel went to the same high school and knew
a lot of the same people so there was friction there.
Fast forward to about 2 years after Rachel and I had sex. I hadn't seen Rachel
in a while and still when I thought about her I hurt because she was the love of
my life and I fucked it up all. My mom was out of town so I was alone in my
house taking care of our cat. I had my friend (then) Najla come over just to
visit cause we hung out all the time. My mom owned a 5 disk CD changer and of
course, whenever I could I would take it over and stick in Tool, Tool, Tool,
Tool, and more Tool. Ænema then Lateralus, then Salvia, then Opiate, then
Undertow. We were just sitting in my living room talking while listening to
Ænema play when Third Eye came on.
Rachel has blue eyes. The night before I had a dream about her. The lyrics hit
me like a fucking rock.
Dreaming of that face again...
It's bright and blue and shimmering...
Grinning wide and comforting me with it's three warm and wild eyes.
Holy shit. I stopped whatever I was doing. I hit the ground. I just sat there
Indian style with my head on the ground shaking. I don't remember anything
after that. I don't remember the song ever getting past that point. I don't
remember Najla sitting there holding me trying to figure out what was going on.
I don't remember Lateralus starting. When, strangely enough, Lateralus (the
song) was about half way through I sat up and said "What happened?" and Najla
proceeded to tell me that I just stopped. Collapsed and just started shaking
and was like that, without a word, eyes wide open (apparently unblinkingly). I
scared the shit out of Najla. I scared the shit out of me. It was Third Eye
and I knew it. I hated that song at that moment. With all of my anger I could
muster I wanted to find Maynard and kill him. How could he write such lyrics
that affected me so strongly? That bastard needed to die. And so did Rachel.
So good to see you once again.
I thought that you were hiding from me
You thought that I had run away
Chasing the trail of smoke and reason.
Yeah? Fuck you Maynard. Fuck you in your pretentious asshole.
Within the next year Tool came to town twice, both times I refused to go for
fear of hearing Third Eye live and what it may have done to me. My fear of that
song kept me away from what could have been two absolutely amazing experiences.
I don't regret not going. If by some unlucky fate of the stars it had been
played I very well may have died.
Very slowly I regained my ability to hear the song without becoming so horribly
furious. Without Lateralus (the song) I'm not sure I ever would have been able
Now, I have mixed feeling about Third Eye at best. I think it's an amazing song
with amazing lyrics, but I can't help but link it to an extremely painful time
in my life. The song isn't permanently ruined but it, at times, is still almost
too difficult for me to hear.