Forget

It's seems like a lot of things in my life lately are challenging me to let the past go. I've had feelings come up that I thought were dead and buried rise like extras in The Walking Dead. My 30-something self is fighting battles my 20-something self never won. I know it's bad when I hear the German version of 99 Red Balloons in this all-night coffee place and I start to cry. "Hab' 'nen Luftballon gefunden. Denk' an dich und lass' ihn fliegen..."

So last entry I was telling you how fucked I was. In the emotional sense, not the physical, unfortunately.

That night, Big Heartbreaker and I did NOT share the bed. He thought it'd be best not to tempt fate. My friend who was in the area came and met me at the hotel bar and BH kindly offered up his side of the bed for her so the two of us could have time to catch up properly. The party moved to the bride & groom's suite after we'd shut that down. It was a late night. And early morning.

I had felt that everything changed that night before, but as we took the long road back to NYC, I overheard a conversation BH was having with his girlfriend that he had "broken up" with while we made a pit stop. We sat in the back of the car and he acted like he wanted to hide it, but didn't. He was asking her what she wanted to have for dinner when he returned- "Should I make lamb chops?" He hung up and I just stared at him. He got defensive as I said nothing. This pretty much summed up our whatever-we-were-doing for the next few months.

I began to pour all of my feelings into journals. Pages and pages. I feel so sorry for The Lead in All the Plays in College who had to live with me during that time. Because discussing anything upfront with BH was way out of the question according to the silent code of the Straight Theatre Guy Crew, she got the brunt of my chaotic emotional life. I am embarrassed when I look back at it. Mainly because I was soooo suuuure. There was no doubt in my mind that it would all work itself out. And I guess it has. Just not in the way I desperately wanted it to.

After a few months, all of the super-analyzing of BH data became exhausting and I began to crave distance. Especially when his ex finally DID move out and I would be privy to dude conversations amongst the STGC about how much pussy BH was getting now that she was gone. Now, these guys were always leaving town for gigs and inevitably would have a "Going Away Party" liiiike, once a month it seemed. A Brother from Another Mothah was leaving next, so I decided I needed to make an appearance. It was one of those fun Midtown nights where everyone in the ten block radius was at the same bar yet BH & I managed to talk in the middle of the roar. "You haven't been around much," he said. "Yeah, and now that ABFAM is going out of town, I guess I'll really NEVER see you, huh?" "Why do say that?" "Well, you'd have to make a plan with meeee, you know, to seeee me." He kind of huffed at the challenge.

I didn't see him for weeks.

Then a text. On Valentine's Day.

I'd worn all black to work because I like to call Valentine's Day "Black Friday" or "Black Whatever the Day of the Week It Falls On." Valentine's Day and I are not friends. The only sign of hope I wore was a small silver heart that at closer look, was in two pieces around my neck. I received the text while at the office and it seemed like it was to a group but I wasn't sure. I didn't really give a fuck, actually.

When I met up with BH at a bar downtown, it was just the two of us after all. He made a comment about trying to reach some of the guys to hang out...but something in his tone sounded like a lie. Like he saw the look on my face when he was by himself and he had to make excuses. I don't doubt that I rolled my eyes just a little at it.

We got to the end of the bar early and held it up until very very late. God, I loved having him to myself. Our conversation flowed like great music: topics that were sweet where we agreed and then turning sharp when we didn't, but always smart and playfully respectful. He made me laugh like no other and equally outraged in the next moment. I was always defending a line of thinking or set of beliefs with him. We had round after round. I got braver with my incidental touching and of course he had to comment on it. "Oh, you're getting a little touchy feely, aren't you now?" he said with a twinkle in his Irish eyes. I blushed into my shoulder, blissfully happy. It was his birthday at midnight and we made a toast to the year ahead. I silently thanked God that he was born. I was unable to hide behind any Cool Girl cover at this point. I beamed unabashedly. While he made his way to the restroom, I asked the bartender to let me take care of the bill. She smiled at me and took my credit card. He sat back down on the stool next to me and I couldn't help but reach up and play with his hair. He took my hand, leaned in, and made the offer I wish I had fully understood and believed when he put it on the table:

"We can be good friends for the next 20, 30 years or...you can come home with me now."

I said, "I wanna come home with you," without missing a beat. He kissed me hard.

Then he exploded with an outpouring of confessions. That he'd never met anyone like me, that we have this thing between us that is so easy and yet so challenging and so right, that I finished thoughts for him and him for me and that he loved me and wished that he wasn't the way he was right now....

I have to admit, my mind tripped at the 'loved me' part. It was all too much. He was basically saying all of the things I felt, and they were like a giant wave crashing over me. I was completely overwhelmed.

The check came and the girl charged me for maybe 4 drinks. I think we drank 14 between us. I tipped her as ridiculously as she undercharged us and when I passed the check back to her, she winked.  We stumbled into a cab and BH just realized that he had nothing to do with taking care of the bar tab. "Ssshhhh, don't worry I got it. Happy Birthday." "But I had a thousand drinks..." "She charged us for four." And we both said at the same time, the same exact way, "She totally wanted me." Then we laughed until we cried and kissed and cuddled and I couldn't wrap my head around this actually happening.

He was extra kind as we crossed his threshold, turning into the guy nervous about showing his apartment for the first time. In the kitchen, he asked if I was hungry and I said I'd have whatever he was making and he made us a PB&J sandwich to share with the last of his jelly. "I gave you the side with more jelly," he said with a huge smile on his face, looking like a five year old. We talked some more and it is hazy but I do remember me bringing up my combative nature. "I guess growing up with brothers, I always associate fighting with love. Fighting somehow means loving to me." I stared at him, hoping he understood, praying he could read between the lines. And he replied, "You know the best way not to fight, though? Just chose not to."

He dragged me into his bedroom and gave me some of his comfy clothes to wear that didn't stay on too long. We ended up on the living room floor laying on blankets and pillows like a real sleepover. We passed out in each others arms but I woke up on what felt like the other side of the Universe, by myself, staring at his sleeping face from afar. It was early and I had to get to Brooklyn Heights from his place in Queens to work. I became all business, sneaking away to get back into my work clothes, mentally preparing for the walk of shame across three boroughs. I got him a glass of water and gently touched him just to let him know I was leaving. He was hurting from the ten martinis and seemed really confused. "You're leaving?" I nodded. "Work." "Stay a bit..." "I can't. I'm already late." "Okay..." "You need to sleep, Birthday Boy. Talk to you later?" "Yeah, okay."

I worked the longest shift ever, head in overdrive, still in last night's black clothes. I was excited but still unsure. All of those things he said...how could I doubt now? I'd HEARD it, for Christ's Sake. But he was really drunk and I had butterflies galore and felt like I could play this very badly if I wasn't careful.

No word from him all day so I got cleaned up after work and met up with a friend on 54th between Eighth Ave. & Broadway. While I was waiting on the street, my phone rang.

"Well, hiiiiii."
"Excuse me, was I naked with you last night? Is that what happened?"
"Why, yes, Sir, I think I may have been naked and on your floor until this morning."
A firetruck siren from down the street loudly blares. It flies up Eighth Ave.
"Is that a firetruck going by you? Where are you?"
"54th & Eighth."
"That's funny. That's where I am in my car. That truck just passed me by."
"So what you're saying is that when you decided to call me, we just so happen to be in the same place?"
"Yeah. That's weird. Like it's meant to be or something."
"Yeah. It is."

And that was the last time I felt so sure about us.

...to be continued...

Forgive

It's 9/11 and I went to church tonight. All of the readings were about forgiveness. I got loooots of forgiving to do. Mostly, I gotta forgive myself for my busted behavior.

I have avoided writing about the Big Heartbreaker since I started this blog last year. I gave him barely a mention using my Flute Playah's nickname, Bobble Head. So I guess either way, BH will do. The years my heart wasted on him! I was the coolest Cool Girl I could be with him and it didn't work. There is a song by The Script called Breakeven and the whole song is genius but the title line in the chorus says it all: "And when a heart breaks, no it don't break even." I was broken for years after. I am friends with every guy I've ever messed around with, something Stand-Up Yogi gives me shit for, but with him, I am not. We sure tried. Several times.  But today, if I saw him on the street, I probably would run in the other direction to avoid him.

What's amazing to me is when two people sharing the same space at the same time can actually be on two different planets. I've erased a bunch of what I've written sofar about this because I realized there is that part of me that wants to give the proof. I want all of you to rise up and say, "You are RIGHT. He DID love you! You're not CRAZY!!" But in the end, it's just a point of view, isn't it? And the only thing that I can change is myself. Learn & Grow, Learn & Grow... my new mantra.

I will give a little of the beginning and some of the end for you.
I first ran into BH while I was running into the Actor's Federal Credit Union on West 48th in New York. He was hopping out of A Brother From Another Mothah's car- they had been driving across country on tour together, just making a pit stop in the city, really. It was quite incredible timing. I saw him and air left my lungs. And my next thought was "Why do I have to have overalls on right now?! And my hair's in pigtails? Really?!" Blue-green eyes and thick beautiful hair and his hello was like he knew me forever... In less than a minute, he was gone.

When he got off of the tour, he became a part of a group of dudes I would hang out with at the bars in Midtown. I drank lots of Jaeger then. I wouldn't see him too often, but when I did it was crazy fun. Then he had a girlfriend who moved in and I reeeally didn't see him. I figured they were on the road to getting married. Then he came to my 29th Birthday Party.

My friend Biscuit was turning 30 and since our birthdays were close, she asked me if I wanted to do a huge dual party. We rented out the Frying Pan, a rusty boat permanently docked on a Pier off the West Side Highway in Chelsea. Like the good Philadelphian I am, I ordered two 6 foot long hoagies and a whole bunch of sides from a deli in Park Slope, Brooklyn to bring. Around noon on the day of the party, a friend went with me to pick up the order in her car and with the hoagies between us, headed to Manhattan, I get a distress call from Biscuit: The Frying Pan was shut down because of a shooting the night before! Yes, as in guns, not film. Three Hundred people had to be contacted before 8pm and told...what?! We needed a new venue. I frantically put out the calls to my posse. The Lead In All the Plays In College came through! I now had a place to go with the hoagies: The Gaslight just 10 blocks away. TLIAPIC knew the owner. He greeted me and my food with open arms. I cried with relief.

Needless to say, Biscuit and I celebrated by getting waaaasted with tiaras on our Leonine heads. 278 peeps still made it! And it was a par-TAY. And then ABFAM shoves his way to the bar with BH traveling close behind. I light up like a Christmas Tree- no girlfriend in tow! We start to chat and I ask, "So, you engaged yet?" And he turns pink and may have choked on his vodka gimlet. "No, NO. We broke up. She's moving out tonight, actually." I really try hard to have the correct response, but I know the alcohol is preventing that as I smile through my "Oh, I'm so sorry!" I get distracted by some new people who have arrived but when I put my attention back on him, I have made a decision to do the boldest thing I've ever done in my 29 years. "So can I ask you for a birthday present?", I say, tiara cocked to the side. "Of course," he answers. "Can you kiss me before you leave? Just as a birthday gift, you know." He grins. "I can do that." "GOOD!" I exclaim and scurry away. I hang with college buddies for a while and laugh til my drunk belly hurts. A guy I will only now call Hickey Man (story to come in a later blog entry) who is one of the We've Been Intimate But of COURSE I'll Just Be Your Friend dudes in my life, has pulled me aside because crowds freak him out and he wants some one on one time with me. I'm smiling up at HM's face which is far away from me because he's so tall and wondering if we will ever do a repeat of our shenanigans, when out of the blue, BH marches up to me with his coat on, drags me into a corner and makes out with me. It was really hot. When I finally stopped trying to talk during it. "Wooow. Thanks," I squeak out. "You're welcome. See you soon." And he's gone. Needless to say, all of my college buddies jaws were on the floor and then erupted into shouting as HM kept his attention on the bottom of his drink.

It was a damn good birthday.

But BH's girlfriend did NOT move out that night and yet I saw him out socially more and more with the Straight Theatre Guy Crew. Flute Playah came out one night randomly and saw our interaction and confirmed for me, "Kathy, he's soooo into you!" I tended to agree since he made comments about how nice my ass looked in my black velvet pants throughout the night. Yet it's strange being the Girl Friday in the middle of a group of straight guys. There is an unspoken understanding that certain lines do not get crossed and if they DO for some reason, you do not discuss it.

One of the STGC was getting married in Virginia in the fall. He moved away before BH was around so much so he didn't get an invite. But I got to bring a guest. So I asked him to go. I am sitting here shaking my head at the ridiculousness of it all. And he totally said yes. Just to be clear- he was not my DATE. It was like I was making up for an oversight. I was completing the STGC circle that had been broken, like only Cool Girl could. His ex or girlfriend or whatever she was still lived at his apartment.

We had one night alone- the rest of the Crew were at a rehearsal, I think. Me & BH headed to the mall. It was nice having quality time. He complimented my outfit and we were strolling passed the GAP and Orange Julius with our hands almost touching, and talking without being under the usual influence of alcohol was nice. We went into a men's store and I helped him pick out a dress shirt. Deep green. He said he liked the color because it made his eyes pop. He added, "It makes your eyes pop, too." Then he made some comment about my adorable Irish nose... you could cut the tension with a knife. But we rejoined the masses without incident and went karaoke-ing at a local dive bar.

Back at our hotel room, there were two queen sized beds and four of us staying there. Instead of having a discussion, BH decided to tackle me onto the bed and then bounced on it like Tigger next to me. Decision made. When the lights went out, we slowly began to cross the line from sharing space to cuddling but he put on the brakes, much to my disappointment. I didn't sleep a wink. Never in my LIFE had I been so tortured.

The boys were all going bowling the next morn before the ceremony that night and I was left to my own devices and did the girly-est thing I could think of- I got a pedicure. But what I really did was think about the previous day's events over & over... "He must like me. He MUST." Somehow, we ended up at a bar just a few hours before the wedding, BH, ABFAM & I and they played Golden Tee and I watched. Eventually, I looked at the time and only said, "I will not be rushed. Just so you guys know." I will never forget the look on BH's face. He guffawed. And we left to get our shiz together at the hotel, which included Red Headed Sluts in the bathroom...I have never seen such a sticky mess. And have never been so drunk before a wedding ceremony before or since.

The ceremony was beautiful, the couple fit like stunning, giant Arian bookends- she at 6 feet and him at 6'7", both with blond manes of hair and smiles that could light a small country. I'm sure I cried, especially when one of the STGC's sang from the balcony of the small colonial church. But there was partying to do! And we sure did. There was no assigned seating and we grabbed a table in the back; there was a buffet SOMEwhere, but I only seemed to find the mountain of fruits & vegetables I passed on the way to the bar. There were many, many drinks and little eating... I'm sure I begged BH to dance with me at one point but he was very on guard and I think I got a half a song out of him. Then the Groom asked if I would sing with the wedding band- an old-school R&B band with guys who looked like they stepped out of a Rolling Stone photo from 1963. Wasted, I did a version of Respect that I thiiiink lasted 15 minutes and sounded more like Janis Joplin than Aretha. The crowd went ape-shit. And BH swept me up and took me to a private table where he bombarded me with questions about what I wanted to do with my life and where I saw myself in 10 years and deep shit like that. I loved that he wanted to be close with me, alone with me, that he wanted to get inside my head and cared about what I thought and felt and was passionate about. But most of all, I loved that he was challenging- he made me think. I looked into his face and realized there would never be a dull moment with him. He was unbelievably funny and smart and talented and magnetic and sexy and interested in the world and perfect for me. We were bookends, too. I was convinced, even in my drunken haze. We could be a POWER couple, for Christ's Sake!

Eventually, we got interrupted by the STGC who were "wondering where the fuck we were."

I got up from that table and realized I was in love. And completely fucked.

This has been very difficult to write. SO this is the end of the beginning. The beginning of the end coming soon...