diary of judy carver (DO NOT READ)
august 15, 1969
dear diary,
when fairytales tell stories of falling in love, they conveniently leave out the friendship that blossoms before. it provides a cushion - so that you don't even notice yourself falling until that's all you can do. the love, the appreciation was already there. it only takes one look, one touch for it all to change.
it was at the pond in bethel. maybe there was something in the water, or maybe it was the pot, but the way he held me felt so surreal. the coldness of the water made it so that his hands were my only source of warmth . it shook me. i wanted so badly to look away - and yet at the same time, he was all i wanted to look at. he's all i ever want to look at.
i am in love with andrew hozier-byrne. i don't know what that means.
- judy
the van park was a rather run-down clearing a few miles from where woodstock was to be held. judy parked her van next to bea's and stepped out, andy in tow. before them was a sea of large cars (and some motorbikes), people from all walks of life climbing in and out, hugging, smoking, living.
it was writing fuel for judy.
bea looked towards the distance and saw billows of black smoke rising from further down the clearing. "i think there's a bonfire in the middle somewhere," said bea. "you guys wanna check it out?"
"er... won't they get mad?" andy asked apprehensively.
"what do you mean?" judy asked. "nobody makes a bonfire just to keep it all to themselves." she quickly got a picnic blanket from the car, folded into a neat square. "come on, andy."
he realized he may still have a lot to learn about america.
they trudged through the tall-ish grass to the source of the smoke, where only two men sat. "room for three more?" asked judy with a smile.
the first man looked up from the fire, slowly putting out his cigarette as he eyed judy. "for sure," he said kindly. "i'm august." he gestured to the other man, who saluted. "that's eddie."
judy laid down the picnic blanket next to august and plopped down criss-cross applesauce. "i'm judy," she introduced.
bea smiled and sat down on judy's right side. "i'm bea."
andrew sat on judy's left, creating a barrier between her and august. "andy. nice to meet you lads."
eddie snickered. "'lads?' where you from?" he asked.
"ireland, actually," andy responded. august let out a soft 'oooh.'
"it's better than either of us can say," bea joked, nudging judy gently.
judy nodded in agreement. "we've got two virginias between us," she snickered.
eddie and august laughed boisterously at judy's joke. "two virginias!" august choked out. "you're too much, judy."
judy smiled and rolled her eyes, pulling a blunt out of her back pocket. "you ever used a bonfire to light a backwood?"
"you can sure as hell try," was eddie's response.
andy watched as judy quickly dipped the end of the blunt into the flame, the embers making her eyes glow. "isn't there a word for that?" he asked. "pyromaniac?"
judy hit the now lit blunt. "har har, very funny," she said sarcastically. she then closed her eyes. "i'm thinking of a number between 1 and 100..."
they knew the game instantly - this was how they decided on the order in which the blunt would be passed.
(a/n: my one personality trait is describing things that potheads do in a way that sounds like a nature documentary)
"1!" shouted august.
judy scoffed. "basic."
"7!"
"84!"
"18!"
judy beamed. "who said 18?"
andy slowly raised his hand up. judy held the blunt towards him. "down to the digit."
as the sun went down, the fire grew stronger, the once-trio becoming a band of five friends. throughout the night, andy could only observe judy in awe. he adored how easily she made friends. for andy, he couldn't do it without at least some struggle. but for judy? all it took was a smile, and she was in. oddly enough, though, he wasn't jealous. he felt like she complemented him. she was outgoing and deadly charismatic, but she also knew how to enjoy solitude (or at least, solitude with andy). to him, that was all he needed.
he was now a few feet away from the bonfire, leaning his weight on an unassuming van. he reached into his pocket and pulled out his lighter, only to find that he'd left his box of marlboros on the picnic blanket.
"ah, shite.." he hissed.
"you need a smoke?"
he looked up and saw bea, a small smirk on her face. she didn't wait for him to answer before she took the lighter from his hand, igniting the cigarette and passing it (and the lighter) back to him. "you're a lifesaver, bea, thanks," said andy.
"don't mention it," said bea in passing. andy did not respond, however - his mind was elsewhere. namely, the bonfire where judy sat, conversing so easily with august and eddie.
the way august looked at judy did not elude him completely. it was obvious to andy that she piqued his interest. and he didn't know what the swirling feeling in his stomach was, but he knew that he didn't like it.
"you're jealous, aren't you?" bea asked. andy could only look at her, confused. "oh, c'mon, andy. august is totally smitten with her - that much is obvious," she said, affirming andy's thoughts. "but how august feels doesn't matter. andy, how do you feel?"
the question floored andy. exactly how did he feel? every time he thought about judy that day, he couldn't help his mind taking him back to the pond earlier. he saw her shoulder blades shifting in a perfect symmetry as she took her shirt off. he heard the beautiful, bright cadence of her laughter. he heard it more when he was in the water with her. he felt hands on his arms, her words entering his ears and going straight to his heart, never to be uttered again.
the realization hit andy like an anvil.
"you just figured it out, didn't you?" asked bea.
andy clutched his heart, looking at bea with a shocked expression. "i'm in love with judy," he breathed, "fuck, i'm in love with judy."
bea scoffed, smoke pouring from her lips as she did so. "and there it is."
"but i don't understand," andy said, a bit flustered. "i don't hate august. i've barely met the man."
"you don't have to hate someone to be jealous of them," bea said wisely. "but i ask you this: what about august do you envy, that you don't already have?"
andy brought his eyes back to the bonfire, where judy was talking animatedly to august and eddie. she had to have felt andy's eyes on her, because she turned towards him. she gave andy a smile and an enthusiastic wave that made his heart melt.
next to him, bea put out what was left of the cigarette and dropped it on the ground. "the ball's in your court, andy. everything else is up to you," she said.
andy's shoulders dropped significantly. "thank you, bea," he said.
"anytime," she dismissed. "i'm gonna go find a tree to piss behind. you should go to your girl." and with that, bea was gone.
my girl, andy thought. my girl, my girl, my girl.
he walked back to the bonfire and sat down next to judy, who greeted him like they'd been apart for years. "hey, stranger!" she said happily. she leaned into his torso; he welcomed the touch, wrapping his arms around her and keeping her close. "i missed you," she said through an exhale, holding one of his arms to her chest.
"i was gone for ten minutes," andy laughed.
"and that's ten minutes too long," judy countered with a smile. "i was just telling eddie and august how we met!"
"ah, the shoe story," andy mused.
"white people are a different kind of crazy," eddie said.
august put a hand to his chest, faking offense. "hey! i'm right here, man!"
eddie's lips parted. "oh, i'm sorry." he leaned to judy and lowered his voice. "white people are a different kind of crazy."
the four entered in a chorus of laughter. andy's laughs reverberated through his chest; judy could feel it in her back, and she was convinced it was the best feeling in the world.
a little while after, bea returned and engaged eddie and august in their own conversation - graciously leaving andy and judy in their own world. andy was sure she did that on purpose.
judy let her head rest where it landed right below andy's collarbone. his chin fell on her head, the smell of her leave in conditioner lingering like a bakery hours after it closed.
"have you thought about what we're gonna do after the festival?" judy asked. andy liked how she said 'we.'
"not really, to be candid," he responded. "we are in new york, though. i'd love to move to the city. get my music career off the ground and all that."
judy smiled fondly, even if andy couldn't see it. "i think you could make it in NYC," she said genuinely. "i've heard you before; you have a beautiful voice."
andy's ears grew red, and he wanted to hide his face in judy's hair. "th.. thank you," he sputtered out. obviously, he was bad at taking compliments. "what about you?"
"i wanna be a poet," judy said, "publish books and shit. NYC'll probably be good for that, too."
"maybe we could take on NYC together."
judy understood the implications behind that. the thought made her smile. "i'd like that, andy," she said, "i'd like it a lot."
andy squeezed her gently. "i'm glad." this was the point of no return. andy was immersed into this love on a visceral level. for a moment, all he knew was judy; the sound of judy, the feeling of judy, judy.
he wondered, for a moment, if he would ever know what it was like to taste judy. he guessed that she'd taste like honey and all things gorgeous.
he hoped that he wouldn't have to guess for long.
property of andrew hozier-byrne
judy appears to me in two forms:
in reality, and in my dreams.
in reality, she and i dance at a distance. i know what it is to hold her hand, but i long to know more. in reality, i am icarus, and she is the sun.
in my dreams, we are so intertwined that i can't tell where i end and where she begins. i know her very being, every curve and freckle, and she knows mine.
in my dreams, i am hades, and she is
sweet, sweet persephone.
but for every dream, i awaken.
and until i fall asleep again, judy from reality is more than enough.