volume thirty-seven

the imaginarium of little lauren

Oh, you subscribed to the digital journal of a chronic oversharer? Buckle up, this week is a doozy of oversharing and information you didn’t ask for but that my heart wanted to put on the page.

Every year on April 4th I remember my first big heartbreak. Heath Ledger was on all accounts, my first love and this Sunday would have been his forty-third birthday.

I cannot quite remember the exact moment when my affection went from “that cute guy in that movie” to “I will marry him one day” but it was probably on watch two of three (on the same day) of 10 Things I Hate About You — a movie I had already seen many times but when you have it recorded off the TV, you can rewind and start the VHS once more from the top and watch him wink and dance and wear black leather pants all over again.

I don’t remember exactly when the posters in my bedroom moved from Jonathan Taylor Thomas and The Spice Girls, but they were soon all about Heath. I know when I started high school all of my friends were aware of my adoring love (we will not use the term obsession here because it was love) and would bring me clippings and pictures and quotes and posters obtained from their magazines, passing them to me on the playground. I would examine them in delight. What does this interview tell me about him that I don’t yet know? Are there any more hints as to why I am indeed, the perfect match for him? Me, this twelve-year-old girl clearly destined to be his wife? Ahhhhhhh, never mind that for now, time to say thank you to another friend who blessed me with a photo I was yet to see.

This was a time when the internet was not as accessible as it is today. Not every photo existed online, and if it did you needed to go to the library and use time meant for studying to find it, something I was too scared and not savvy enough to do. Not to mention the lack of social media and content, period. You wanted to hear the thoughts of a celebrity? You had to buy a magazine and hope they were in it in a list of “heartthrobs” or “people to watch” or “homegrown hunks” giving a hot take. Teen magazines like TV Hits, Girlfriend, Dolly (if I was able to steal a peek of my older sister’s copy) all ready for us to flip through and daydream. So I did, and so did anyone who knew me, and so my collection of Heath grew… and grew… and grew.

Soon he was becoming a bigger and bigger name, earning him a prime location in the window of the video stores and right there when you checked out your weekly rental, behind the counter. I had eyes and ears at the handful of video stores in my town, placing their names down to take home their displays once they had moved from a new release to the regular shelves. Soon I had posters and flyers and even a Heath Ledger (almost) life-sized A Knight’s Tale cutout. At one point, I had to have my Dad come over and attach a poster to my bedroom ceiling as the walls were full.

I would, much later than this, have my first reciprocated kiss when I was sixteen and snuck out to a party, lying drunk on the hood of a stranger’s car. But before my first reciprocated kiss, I had long already had my first relationship. That cardboard cutout of Heath saw some things, let's just say. Thank goodness I was just a little tween because he was not completely life-sized and his cardboard height measured up to the boys in my class to whom I had paid no attention whatsoever.

For christmas when I was twelve (so close to being thirteen I am basically a grown-up ready to move out and get married, hello!), I got the latest Heath movie in my stocking – Ned Kelly on VHS. We watched it on christmas afternoon, my parents a few christmas drinks in, all of us full from a huge lunch and constant snacking. I had my first sips of alcohol that day when my parents let me have a small drink. I laughed through the whole fucking movie, only to watch it again the next day and be mortified at how sad it was. (Connecting dots from that to my adulthood, no I am not! Despite my tipsiness, I recall seeing to my knowledge, my first naked woman on screen that day. I had to leave the room for *that* scene of Titanic and other movies that had been screened before I could lay my eyes on them. But this was a brand new movie. “Oops! Close your eyes!” AKA don’t let Lauren see the boobs that she is growing herself, make her associate shame with them. But also, give her some booze she is old enough…)

By this point, I was a Heath dictionary and still, he had no idea I existed. In an effort to spread awareness of my upcoming nuptials, I decided to more actively include my friends in our relationship. My birthday was coming up, and to celebrate I invited my closest friends, who of course were going to be my bridal party, over for a birthday sleepover. I made invitations to look like movie tickets and invited them all along to my Heath Ledger Movie Marathon. The education of their friend’s soon-to-be-husband was about to begin.

“I don't care if you think you already know so much about him, you will never know as much as me so please stop talking and sit and watch this movie he did in the 90s when he was in a scene for two minutes…”

…right through Blackrock, Two Hands, 10 Things, The Four Feathers, The Sin Eater, The Patriot, A Knight’s Tale, Ned Kelly... This was before Casanova, before The Brothers Grim, before Candy, before Lords of Dogtown and before I was old enough to watch Monster’s Ball despite my begging that it simply must be hired from the video store with the others because this was a “mar-a-thon Mum!!!! UGH”

*STORMS OFF IN DON’T-YOU-KNOW-I-JUST-BECAME-A-TEENAGER?*

A future gathering with this same group of friends would see us all go to see Brokeback Mountain at the cinema. Myself and another gal pal who like me is now openly queer and fab, absolutely obsessed with seeing this film and leading the pack with our Heath and Jake facts ready to share and correct people on. Us, a group of catholic school girls sneaking into a movie we apparently shouldn’t be, only to see our catholic primary school principal and his wife there in the front row. “Nice to see you again sir, yes high school is treating us great!” Looking back? Hell fucking yeah.

Threading all of this timeline together were other noteworthy instances. Such as when my Dad kept dropping hints that my birthday gift was Heath Ledger’s presence because a girl can dream, and dream I did. I still have the card that said “Sorry! Heath wouldn’t fit in the box!” A great Dad joke, a heartbreaking and devastating event for me.

There is a home video of me somewhere when my family set up the camera on the coffee table as other family members left from visiting. I didn’t hear them, see them, notice them saying goodbye. They exaggeratingly bid me farewell loving every minute of my being oblivious. My eyes were glued to some awards ceremony and Heath and Naomi were taking the red carpet. IN. THE. ZONE.

I got my hands on a Heath biography (and oh boy was it ever just written by someone more in love with him than me). It had an address where you could send Heath fan mail and I DID. It was returned to sender. Upon reflection, thank goodness.

In this book, I also learned Heath and his sister were named after the Wuthering Heights characters so I read it. Well, I read most of it. Some of it. Because you never know, I might have had to impress his Mum any day when he brought me home to meet her.

I’m wondering what would happen if I applied myself to anything else the way I applied myself to this relationship? It was absolute perfection. Everything was going great. Until it wasn’t. Until another magazine interview clipping came across my way and I learned that Heath only dated older women.

That was it. It was over. No matter how much I forced it, I was never going to overtake him. I could grow up all I wanted, I would never be older than him. I was crushed. I was all alone. I was never going to stand a chance. So my wedding plans pivoted to “I hope we are friends one day” plans and as I grew up a little more, I got to watch him grow up too, as a star. Making movie magic. Making sure we all knew how damn talented he was, and he was.

I was home alone when I got the call. My Mum and younger sister were away on holiday, my older sister had moved out by then and that left me alone at home for the first time as I had a part-time teenage job to go to. I can still hear the tears in the back of my Mum’s throat she choked on as she spoke.

She asked me if I had listened to the news yet that day. I responded no. I could tell something bad had happened, my first thought was that it was my Dad, that something bad had happened to him. My Dad, who drove up a dark windy mountain road every day after work and after a beer or several, and I was constantly worried I would get a bad call. My hands clammy, my stomach in my throat, my soul on the edge of breaking she struggled to say the words “I'm so sorry baby. Heath Ledger died”.

I was relieved. This is not what I expected my reaction would be to this news, but I had just found out that my Dad was safe and well. This was good news. Until it wasn’t. Until in a matter of seconds that was replaced with the truth. I was weak, I was blurry, I was heartbroken beyond words and I collapsed in a heap on my bedroom floor, found hours later by my best friend at the time, who’s recently acquired driver’s licence allowed her to drive the hour to see me from her home, comforting me by dragging me out of bed and taking me out.

I didn’t want to leave the bed, I didn’t want to accept this was true. Not that we would never be friends, that didn’t matter now. But that we would never get to witness his magic again. I was too self-involved to think about how those who actually knew him must be feeling at that moment. I was crushed. Things like this just didn’t happen in my lack of life experience.

I missed him without ever knowing him. I still miss him. I see a photo, a video, a press clip and I think about what he might be doing now if he were here. What would he have to say about this current event or that? What movies would he have made? What further charm and talent would he have shared?

So this weekend, I will remember him as I do every year. This year I am grateful for a space to write about it — a young girl’s first love, a national treasure, a truly talented soul, a smile that has lived on in a lot of gifs to melt hearts — a date that I can remember without (like I have to every other) having to put it in my calendar.

A date that now I can think, well little Lauren, your wish came true. Adult Lauren with an adult perspective is writing this and realising she did it — she grew older than him and that is heartbreaking.

I love you,

Lauren xoxo

No struggles, blessings and goals this week. Instead, as I am v v v burnt out from my moving, here is the list I wrote in the last hour of the London Writers’ Salon Birthday 24 Hour Sprint (of which I was present for 20, slept for 4, and felt like I wrote for none due to my fuzzy brain). In the last hour, I documented what I had achieved and it was pretty damn special:

• wrote a scene on my almost first kiss

• cried happy tears

• sing-alongs/blared bob dylan in my ears and my writing that hour reflected that

• gave a hot milo education to fellow salonistas — what is milo/how to make it/here is the tin…

• witnessed an abundance of cute pets, including lamb cam

• listened through and wrote for the producer, editing notes for one podcast episode

• show notes/descriptions for four podcast episodes

• slide show creation + edits for a client

• gave late-night popcorn tips / got late-night popcorn tips

• cheat sheet/plan for another client

• hosted for three hours of the sprint starting at 6am, with varied backdrops, soundtracks, props and themes planned (and kickass co-hosts)

• discovered I had two identical nail files when I was sleepy and pulled one out after I had already pulled it out...thought I was seeing double in my sleep-deprived delirium

• submitted to the LWS anthology after editing a short piece I had written a while back, not sure if it made sense, was too sleepy to try and figure that out, patted myself on the back for doing the damn thing

• sold a ring light to some stranger on facebook marketplace

• had a dance party — including in front of a real human (audrey came over for day two) for the first time in a long, long time

• edited one previous scene in a personal essay about the first time I realised I was not straight

• read a very queer vampire article thanks to lauren m

• kept up with the chat and my DMs on the zoom zoom room, grateful for the love in the room

• wrote a scene on the first time I said "I love you"

If you feel inclined to say thanks for this post, please like or comment (it’s free and means so much!), forward it to a friend or you can buy me a slice 🍕