I'm so afraid
I broke us.
And I'll turn around
one day
and
you
won't
be
there.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
And so it begins
So Tuesday, April 19th, I start rehearsals for the stage production of "Diary of a Mid-Life Crisis", putting this blog on stage.
I'm very excited about this. I think it's going to be an amazing production. I have a great cast and the script has come together very well.
So be prepared for updates along the way. The show opens May 27th here in Los Angeles (North Hollywood, actually) at Eclectic Company Theatre.
If you'd like to contribute to the production fund and help the show out, please go to:
IndieGoGo.com/Diary-of-a-Mid-Life-Crisis
Thanks!
I'm very excited about this. I think it's going to be an amazing production. I have a great cast and the script has come together very well.
So be prepared for updates along the way. The show opens May 27th here in Los Angeles (North Hollywood, actually) at Eclectic Company Theatre.
If you'd like to contribute to the production fund and help the show out, please go to:
IndieGoGo.com/Diary-of-a-Mid-Life-Crisis
Thanks!
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Not broken
Thank you for handing my heart back to me without breaking it. Though I do believe a small, special, precious sweet spot will remain with you as long as you’re in my life - and beyond that - because of this.
You taught me a lesson, whether you knew it or not. You taught me that I can love just as fiercely and just as ferociously without being in love. That it’s okay to still love you that much and that you wouldn’t run away from that. You’re stronger than many men I’ve known in the past to stand up to my ferocious love and not hide from it.
And that you love me as much as you can, without being in love with me. And just the fact that you’re still here after what was said and what we said and how much was put on the table makes me know that you love me and that much is true.
And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish it turned out the other way. If I said I didn’t wish for the rom-com moment where you come to your senses and realize I’m the only woman for you. Because a part of me still wishes for that, still hopes for that. But I know it won’t happen because that’s not what life is about. Life is about hurting and growing and changing and discovering and surviving. Life is about tough choices and hard answers but that doesn’t mean it can’t be good in the end.
And I’m glad we’re okay - better than okay. I’m glad we never missed a beat after all of this. That we’re exactly where we were, without my ridiculous, crazy, muddled heart standing in the way. We have something precious and special and it has survived what has killed most in my life.
And I hope that we stay this way for always. Close, special, true. There is a quote from Brian Andreas from storypeople.com that always makes me think of our friendship:
“They came to sit & dangle their feet off the edge of the world & after awhile they forgot everything but the good & true things they would do someday.”
But I know so much in my life is transient and wayward and that you may not always be there, despite your best intentions. And if you decide to leave, just drop me a note before you do so I can say good-bye. Because I would let you go. I just need a little advance notice.
You taught me a lesson, whether you knew it or not. You taught me that I can love just as fiercely and just as ferociously without being in love. That it’s okay to still love you that much and that you wouldn’t run away from that. You’re stronger than many men I’ve known in the past to stand up to my ferocious love and not hide from it.
And that you love me as much as you can, without being in love with me. And just the fact that you’re still here after what was said and what we said and how much was put on the table makes me know that you love me and that much is true.
And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish it turned out the other way. If I said I didn’t wish for the rom-com moment where you come to your senses and realize I’m the only woman for you. Because a part of me still wishes for that, still hopes for that. But I know it won’t happen because that’s not what life is about. Life is about hurting and growing and changing and discovering and surviving. Life is about tough choices and hard answers but that doesn’t mean it can’t be good in the end.
And I’m glad we’re okay - better than okay. I’m glad we never missed a beat after all of this. That we’re exactly where we were, without my ridiculous, crazy, muddled heart standing in the way. We have something precious and special and it has survived what has killed most in my life.
And I hope that we stay this way for always. Close, special, true. There is a quote from Brian Andreas from storypeople.com that always makes me think of our friendship:
“They came to sit & dangle their feet off the edge of the world & after awhile they forgot everything but the good & true things they would do someday.”
But I know so much in my life is transient and wayward and that you may not always be there, despite your best intentions. And if you decide to leave, just drop me a note before you do so I can say good-bye. Because I would let you go. I just need a little advance notice.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Almost... but not quite
You were almost. Just so close to almost. And I was willing to wait, despite my many denials that I would. But you were so close…
And we were so close. Your hand on my face, your arms around me, the way you looked at me that one long night. So close. So very close.
And I was willing to wait to see how close we’d get, to see if we could get past so close and just be whatever comes after that.
Because you’d look at me that way, your eyes so full of your heart. And my heart would look back out my eyes at yours and we’d be thisclose. So close.
And I thought we’d get there. I really, truly did. Despite the red flags, despite the wondering and the waiting and the what the fuck. But we were so close.
Your heart pounding as you held me. The touch of your hand. All those little silly, ridiculous, wonderful things you said, did, showed me.
And I thought you were almost. Just so close to almost.
But you’re not.
Because you showed me that we’re not almost. We’re not so thisclose. You showed me by omission that I’m not in your heart or your mind. You showed me that I’m chicken soup for your soul - there when you need me but otherwise, out of sight, out of mind. Not almost. Not even close. Nothing.
It was a simple thing that a single call, a single text, a single email could have shown me that I was almost.
But I guess I don’t get to be that for you. And you no longer get to be that for me.
And I almost forgave you. Because that’s what I was taught to do. I was taught by years of abuse to be passive, to take what I’m given and make that almost. To be willing to be invisible, to be willing to be unimportant, and to say, thank you, sir, may I have some more?
And I went there. I forgave and was ready to hand my heart back to you and say, please sir, may I have some more? Because you’re almost…
Until I got my shins kicked soundly by those who see me and love me and know me. They made me see how not almost you are now. And how almost will never happen because you don’t choose to have it.
And you probably won’t even notice that almost is gone. Because I’ll still be there on the periphery. I’ll still see you and I’ll still talk to you and we’ll still be friends… almost.
But the almost will be gone. And the special connection that we had will be gone. Because I choose it. Because I don’t want any more, thank you, sir.
Because I deserve more than almost. I deserve someone who will make that call when it should be made. I deserve to have someone who doesn’t see me as chicken soup but sees me as something beautiful and delicious and wondrous to be savored and cultivated and cradled as often as possible.
And I’m so sorry you weren’t that. Because you were almost…
But I have to let go of almost and of you because I deserve more than.
And it hurts like a motherfucker.
And we were so close. Your hand on my face, your arms around me, the way you looked at me that one long night. So close. So very close.
And I was willing to wait to see how close we’d get, to see if we could get past so close and just be whatever comes after that.
Because you’d look at me that way, your eyes so full of your heart. And my heart would look back out my eyes at yours and we’d be thisclose. So close.
And I thought we’d get there. I really, truly did. Despite the red flags, despite the wondering and the waiting and the what the fuck. But we were so close.
Your heart pounding as you held me. The touch of your hand. All those little silly, ridiculous, wonderful things you said, did, showed me.
And I thought you were almost. Just so close to almost.
But you’re not.
Because you showed me that we’re not almost. We’re not so thisclose. You showed me by omission that I’m not in your heart or your mind. You showed me that I’m chicken soup for your soul - there when you need me but otherwise, out of sight, out of mind. Not almost. Not even close. Nothing.
It was a simple thing that a single call, a single text, a single email could have shown me that I was almost.
But I guess I don’t get to be that for you. And you no longer get to be that for me.
And I almost forgave you. Because that’s what I was taught to do. I was taught by years of abuse to be passive, to take what I’m given and make that almost. To be willing to be invisible, to be willing to be unimportant, and to say, thank you, sir, may I have some more?
And I went there. I forgave and was ready to hand my heart back to you and say, please sir, may I have some more? Because you’re almost…
Until I got my shins kicked soundly by those who see me and love me and know me. They made me see how not almost you are now. And how almost will never happen because you don’t choose to have it.
And you probably won’t even notice that almost is gone. Because I’ll still be there on the periphery. I’ll still see you and I’ll still talk to you and we’ll still be friends… almost.
But the almost will be gone. And the special connection that we had will be gone. Because I choose it. Because I don’t want any more, thank you, sir.
Because I deserve more than almost. I deserve someone who will make that call when it should be made. I deserve to have someone who doesn’t see me as chicken soup but sees me as something beautiful and delicious and wondrous to be savored and cultivated and cradled as often as possible.
And I’m so sorry you weren’t that. Because you were almost…
But I have to let go of almost and of you because I deserve more than.
And it hurts like a motherfucker.
Thursday, April 07, 2011
Can't do it again
I can’t do it again. I can’t be the one to fix and to hold and to solve and to help. I can’t look at you and see the wounds and want to heal them. And I can’t look past the things that are right in front of me that scare me about you, because I’ve done that before and I can’t do it again.
And it’s killing me because it’s so familiar and it’s so exactly what I know that I don’t know how not to do it. How not to be drawn to it and to you and to that.
I need you to want to heal me and to chase me and to solve me. And you’ve done that a bit, enough that makes me hopeful and hopeless, but I guess I want/need/have to have more. And I don’t know how to do that either. To let you know I need more because I’m not sure you can give more.
And I can’t do without more again.
And I adore you, and that’s familiar, too. And that’s what gets confusing and difficult and heart-breaking. I adore you. And when I get near you, I lose all my conviction and just fall into your eyes and into your embrace. And I adore you. And I forget about the flags and the warnings and all the rationales. I just see you and your eyes, looking back at me the way I want to be looked at. And I adore you. And there in your eyes, I see you adore me, as much as you can.
And you’re him and you’re the other him and you’re a bit of the other him and that’s just… too many hims maybe. And I got lost in their eyes, too. And I wanted to heal and to help and to fix and to hold and to solve. And I got lost in them. And they left me standing here, broken, alone, wanting, needing, hoping… and then there’s you…
And there are those moments that are so clear, so crystal, so present, where I’ve seen this in a future moment a while ago, where I’m where I want to be with someone I want to be with and it’s beautiful and it’s perfect and it’s right. And there are moments with you that are so clearly from that vision, from that moment where I saw it, and it takes my breath away.
But the echoes of the past blur the edges of the future and I don’t know what to do.
I want you to get lost in me. I want someone to get lost in me. And maybe I’m so afraid of that never happening that I let myself get lost instead.
And maybe this is where I learn to break this cycle, step away from the familiar, pulling my reluctant heart away from your eyes. Still care, still be there, but just not be all the way there. Stand on the periphery of you so you’re not left alone, because I think you’re very alone and I would never leave you like that, like I’ve been left. And I will continue to adore you, just maybe from a safe distance.
Because I can’t do this again. As much as I wish that I could… as much as I wish you could let yourself go and make this into something, take the chance, take my heart. But you won’t and you can’t.
And I can’t either.
And it’s killing me because it’s so familiar and it’s so exactly what I know that I don’t know how not to do it. How not to be drawn to it and to you and to that.
I need you to want to heal me and to chase me and to solve me. And you’ve done that a bit, enough that makes me hopeful and hopeless, but I guess I want/need/have to have more. And I don’t know how to do that either. To let you know I need more because I’m not sure you can give more.
And I can’t do without more again.
And I adore you, and that’s familiar, too. And that’s what gets confusing and difficult and heart-breaking. I adore you. And when I get near you, I lose all my conviction and just fall into your eyes and into your embrace. And I adore you. And I forget about the flags and the warnings and all the rationales. I just see you and your eyes, looking back at me the way I want to be looked at. And I adore you. And there in your eyes, I see you adore me, as much as you can.
And you’re him and you’re the other him and you’re a bit of the other him and that’s just… too many hims maybe. And I got lost in their eyes, too. And I wanted to heal and to help and to fix and to hold and to solve. And I got lost in them. And they left me standing here, broken, alone, wanting, needing, hoping… and then there’s you…
And there are those moments that are so clear, so crystal, so present, where I’ve seen this in a future moment a while ago, where I’m where I want to be with someone I want to be with and it’s beautiful and it’s perfect and it’s right. And there are moments with you that are so clearly from that vision, from that moment where I saw it, and it takes my breath away.
But the echoes of the past blur the edges of the future and I don’t know what to do.
I want you to get lost in me. I want someone to get lost in me. And maybe I’m so afraid of that never happening that I let myself get lost instead.
And maybe this is where I learn to break this cycle, step away from the familiar, pulling my reluctant heart away from your eyes. Still care, still be there, but just not be all the way there. Stand on the periphery of you so you’re not left alone, because I think you’re very alone and I would never leave you like that, like I’ve been left. And I will continue to adore you, just maybe from a safe distance.
Because I can’t do this again. As much as I wish that I could… as much as I wish you could let yourself go and make this into something, take the chance, take my heart. But you won’t and you can’t.
And I can’t either.
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