"Don't forget me- I beg. I remember you said, 'Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.'"
Fuckin' Adele.
This song crept up on me. When I listened to 21 straight through the first time, One & Only was the one that took me out. Its like she read about my Unicorn and wrote a song for me to sing to him. But this song, this Someone Like You song... it goes out to ALL the ones that didn't work out, doesn't it? Or for me, those that never really were in the first place.
One of my best friends in high school just got married in the fall. He played Jesus in Godspell our senior year. Those of you who are musical theatre enthusiasts know the type- limitlessly charming, childlike, a Pied Piper, bringing everyone up for it on the ride. And we were in separable. We started as two people who really didn't like each other in art class to finally connecting as friends and then got incredibly close while we had rehearsal every night after school. He & I lived far away so we would just hang in the auditorium until rehearsal, maybe grabbing McDonalds in between, until our director got wind of this and invited us for dinner at her house nearby every afternoon. And that...was magical. Her kitchen was where my life would expand, having 'grown-up' discussions about faith and love and art for the first time. It was where I became an Artist, with a capital A. She always saw us as equals and we blossomed under her care. Although I tried so hard to avoid it, I began to fall in love with JIG. I fought harder to not show it.
Cool Girl was all I was at that time; my feelings for JIG in a tight vault. He talked about love and sex and girls and I would bristle with excitement on the inside but was debating and challenging on the outside. Then I liked Love in broad terms; the specifics were not a safe place in my world. His big blue eyes surrounded by impossibly long eyelashes and thick curly hair and long fingers that danced across the piano and husky voice that sang the blues were landmines. If he did not return my feelings, I surely would die. So I'd just add another number to the vault's combination. I learned to pour cement around my heart. The three of us were a happy trio, banter and ideas ran freely, and I was in my own private, safe Heaven.
And then he invited her over for dinner.
Her being The Popular Girl who was in the play as well. She didn't need to come to the director's after school; she lived nearby. She was there because he wanted her. I shriveled up inside. But here's the thing, at rehearsals, TPG and I had a blast. We loved singing harmonies together (I think we beat to death "More Than Words" HA.) and had a great time doing the play. But it was clear she wanted him, too. And all of a sudden, I was the third wheel. And it suuuucked.
One rare moment in her kitchen, our director and I were alone. JIG & TPG were off somewhere perhaps; I don't really remember. She cautiously brought up the topic of them being a couple. I thought it was because she was concerned about the play if they, God-forbid, broke up. She shook her head. "I just don't know if she's someone who's right for him." I was taken a-back. I asked, "Well, who would be right for him, then?" I mean, she was everything: rich, popular, thin, smart, funny. And then she looked me right in the eye and said, "You. I was always hoping he'd be with you." Tears welled immediately. She'd cracked my vault. I felt naked. I think I literally folded up inside myself on the bench in her kitchen. She silently came to sit by me and wrapped her arm around me. And we sat like that for a while.
Over the next few weeks, I took refuge in our director being 'in my corner', like it was a fight, or something. But JIP asked TPG to the prom, which he gave me every last romantic detail of. And Cool Girl strengthened her resolve. He kept asking me who I was going to the prom with. Cool Girl was so fierce, she was not going to the prom at ALL. He protested. I stuck to my guns and my excuses. The Junior Prom sucked (it did for me), I didn't have money (I'd stopped working my part time job to do the play), it was something made for couples and not for friends (the closest one that revealed the truth). At one point he begged. I was stubborn and said a firm, "No."
He made love to her for the first time after the Prom. I kept a good game face as he spilt the specifics. The play ended; our time together slowly became less and less frequent. I saw him in art class still at least. Dating the popular girl wasn't all it was cracked up to be. I didn't think they'd make it passed graduation. But they did.
I got accepted to a small Liberal Arts college in Staten Island that none of my 630 classmates managed to find out about. It was a chance for me to start over. He went to a college in Amish Country. This ended up shaping our futures more than we realized at the time. He & TPG eventually broke up for good and I had quickly become the biggest fag hag this side of the Staten Island Ferry. My first 'boyfriend' in college ended up being gay. I made a joke that instead of the Midas Touch, the Touch of Gold, I had the Touch of Gay. Even made a skit out of it with my good friend Wesley Boozer. It was the hit of the theatre department. I saw JIG when I went home for Thanksgiving, sometimes Christmas, sometimes Easter. He always had serious, intense long term relationships and I had my career aspirations. He became a real hippie and started a great trance band which he still makes music with. I sang with them once when they played in NYC. He even had a pottery shop once.
He met a woman studying to be a doctor. They married last year and he'll follow her to wherever her residency takes them: Arizona or Vermont I think were the last choices I heard about.
I had the heartbreaking task of telling him I couldn't afford to fly in for his wedding. Sometimes being an Artist with a capital A sucks. Maybe the Universe was protecting me (and him) from my reaction. I hardly think I would've pulled an "I Object!" moment at his ceremony but with this new found truthfulness I've been growing into, a church-side confessional about all my hidden high-school feelings may have slipped out. Very Non-Cool-Girl but very selfish.
I love JIG, but in such a different way now. He's someone who is safe with my dreams; to this day, I can always slip into a beautiful conversation with him about faith and love and art just like we learned to all those many years ago in that warm kitchen. And Adele's lyrics could never be truer...
"Nevermind, I'll find someone like you. I wish nothing but the best for you two."
I had a strange daydream during Mother's Day Mass on Sunday night. The priest invited all mothers and mothers-to-be to stand about the altar for the Liturgy of the Eucharist. I had a vision of me at next year's mass joining them with a baby bump of my own. It made me believe in the possibility of tomorrow like I haven't in a long time. Who knows what it will bring...
Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts
Monday, May 9, 2011
Monday, February 28, 2011
Dream
I've mentioned that I'm in Hypnotherapy. There is a misconception that you don't remember anything while hypnotized and that you actually have someone manipulate you during sleep. *buzzer* Wrong.
What DOES happen is that you have a guided meditation while in a highly relaxed state and basically get to daydream. I daydream all the time. Maybe to a fault. Certainly in the past this has been the case. I'll never forget the first time I realized that some people don't daydream.
My best friend from high school was in love with her Neighbor. Like, the Neighbor she grew up with who was about 5 doors down from her mom's house. He had just bought his childhood home from his parents who retired and moved away, I think. My BFFHS was spending aloooot of time there, doing a Cool Girl thing with him. Which was unusual because she usually went right for what she wanted and got it in relationships, and I spent many years of our friendship wishing I could be more like her. To quote When Harry Met Sally, guys were always crossing a room to talk to My BFFHS; even my own older brother said she was pretty enough to be a model. And although people would often think we were sisters, I always felt like she was the Pretty One and I was the Funny One.
This friendship of theirs blossomed while I was about to leave for a European Tour, right after I graduated college, and after hearing so much about him, the three of us hung out. We had a very long night of drinking and laughing at his house and by the end understood why My BFFHS was head over heals for him- he was a good time. And they had mad chemistry.
Fast forward to my third or fourth month on tour; it was all snail mail then, folks, no laptops or cell phone (I'm so old!) and I got a large manila envelope handed to me from my company manager. Inside were 8 pages or so of beautiful white draft paper with gorgeous printing- The Neighbor had written to me. And it was a strange letter that I read several times to understand- he basically wrote out a "date" he was having with me. I was stunned. First of all, when you meet a guy your friend likes, they may as well be a cousin to you. Period. This is how I roll. And second of all, I could not wrap my head around him choosing me over My BFFHS- would not accept it. So... I left it alone. And didn't mention it to anyone, especially not to her. It was the first secret I'd ever kept from her.
I returned to NYC in the summertime and began living with a good friend from tour in Park Slope, Brooklyn. The Neighbor contacted me to see about a visit. I, of course, contacted My BFFHS to see if she was planning on joining. She said she'd try but then something happened about when she could come and the Neighbor and her were no longer coming up together. She ended up not coming at all. And I remember it being preventable but I didn't prevent it. He came through my front door with a big hug and got comfy on my "new" area rug (it was so a newly-cleaned hand-me-down) which is where he was when my roommate met him. When she and I had a moment alone in our tiny kitchen, she whispered, "Okay, who's the sexy man lying on our rug right now?!" Sexy. I couldn't believe it. Or wouldn't is probably more like it. I was a hot stinking mess after her comment and when she excused herself very discreetly to leave us alone, I think I was purple with rosacia. Flushed from head to toe. I was in a pickle and couldn't get out.
To this day, I couldn't tell you how we got there, but at one point the Neighbor came up behind me, put his arms around me, whispered in my ear and asked me to give him a chance. I am tearing up right now thinking about it. I squeaked out, "What about My BFFHS?" and then pled my case with my "you're like a cousin to me" reasoning and he resisted only a bit before agreeing not to push but that he hoped I'd change my mind one day. Now I had a bigger secret to keep from My BFFHS.
It was the first fight she and I ever had. Over a guy. I was at a complete loss. My life-skills had not prepared me for this. She was very hurt about not being included in the weekend and we didn't speak for a few months. I was devastated. She was the only girlfriend from home I still kept in touch with and was my oldest friend.
During those months, my college friend was in the West Side Story tour which was making a stop in Delaware and I decided to go. And I boldly asked the Neighbor to come with. I don't know why I did it- to see if we could be friends? That's the answer I told myself, I guess. On the drive down, he asked me what I thought of CT and if I thought I could live there; he obviously hadn't given up on "us." I thought he was delusional.
We got there early and decided to walk around in the historic downtown area and began talking about our dreams while strolling along the cobblestone streets. Hopes may be a more appropriate word. I started talking about my daydreams and actually used that word and he stopped me- "You actually daydream?" he asked, wide-eyed, looking at me like I was some exotic creature that took his breath away. "Well, of course," I answered, "I like to imagine what my life will be like while I'm awake, not just by chance while I'm asleep." He beamed. "That is so cool," he said. My heart became so very sad for him. You see, he spent time imagining a life with me, but never on what HE wanted for HIS life. And I realized that day that not everyone daydreamed like I did.
My dreams have changed greatly and so have my friendships. I haven't spoken to My BFFHS in over a year because of a falling out we've had. I was terribly heartbroken and still am. I do daydream about making amends. I hope it one day does come true.
I sometimes daydream about what life would have been like for me if I took a chance on the Neighbor. I wonder if anyone will ever be bold enough again to wrap his arms around my waist and ask me to take a chance. In my dreams, my heart says "Yes."
What DOES happen is that you have a guided meditation while in a highly relaxed state and basically get to daydream. I daydream all the time. Maybe to a fault. Certainly in the past this has been the case. I'll never forget the first time I realized that some people don't daydream.
My best friend from high school was in love with her Neighbor. Like, the Neighbor she grew up with who was about 5 doors down from her mom's house. He had just bought his childhood home from his parents who retired and moved away, I think. My BFFHS was spending aloooot of time there, doing a Cool Girl thing with him. Which was unusual because she usually went right for what she wanted and got it in relationships, and I spent many years of our friendship wishing I could be more like her. To quote When Harry Met Sally, guys were always crossing a room to talk to My BFFHS; even my own older brother said she was pretty enough to be a model. And although people would often think we were sisters, I always felt like she was the Pretty One and I was the Funny One.
This friendship of theirs blossomed while I was about to leave for a European Tour, right after I graduated college, and after hearing so much about him, the three of us hung out. We had a very long night of drinking and laughing at his house and by the end understood why My BFFHS was head over heals for him- he was a good time. And they had mad chemistry.
Fast forward to my third or fourth month on tour; it was all snail mail then, folks, no laptops or cell phone (I'm so old!) and I got a large manila envelope handed to me from my company manager. Inside were 8 pages or so of beautiful white draft paper with gorgeous printing- The Neighbor had written to me. And it was a strange letter that I read several times to understand- he basically wrote out a "date" he was having with me. I was stunned. First of all, when you meet a guy your friend likes, they may as well be a cousin to you. Period. This is how I roll. And second of all, I could not wrap my head around him choosing me over My BFFHS- would not accept it. So... I left it alone. And didn't mention it to anyone, especially not to her. It was the first secret I'd ever kept from her.
I returned to NYC in the summertime and began living with a good friend from tour in Park Slope, Brooklyn. The Neighbor contacted me to see about a visit. I, of course, contacted My BFFHS to see if she was planning on joining. She said she'd try but then something happened about when she could come and the Neighbor and her were no longer coming up together. She ended up not coming at all. And I remember it being preventable but I didn't prevent it. He came through my front door with a big hug and got comfy on my "new" area rug (it was so a newly-cleaned hand-me-down) which is where he was when my roommate met him. When she and I had a moment alone in our tiny kitchen, she whispered, "Okay, who's the sexy man lying on our rug right now?!" Sexy. I couldn't believe it. Or wouldn't is probably more like it. I was a hot stinking mess after her comment and when she excused herself very discreetly to leave us alone, I think I was purple with rosacia. Flushed from head to toe. I was in a pickle and couldn't get out.
To this day, I couldn't tell you how we got there, but at one point the Neighbor came up behind me, put his arms around me, whispered in my ear and asked me to give him a chance. I am tearing up right now thinking about it. I squeaked out, "What about My BFFHS?" and then pled my case with my "you're like a cousin to me" reasoning and he resisted only a bit before agreeing not to push but that he hoped I'd change my mind one day. Now I had a bigger secret to keep from My BFFHS.
It was the first fight she and I ever had. Over a guy. I was at a complete loss. My life-skills had not prepared me for this. She was very hurt about not being included in the weekend and we didn't speak for a few months. I was devastated. She was the only girlfriend from home I still kept in touch with and was my oldest friend.
During those months, my college friend was in the West Side Story tour which was making a stop in Delaware and I decided to go. And I boldly asked the Neighbor to come with. I don't know why I did it- to see if we could be friends? That's the answer I told myself, I guess. On the drive down, he asked me what I thought of CT and if I thought I could live there; he obviously hadn't given up on "us." I thought he was delusional.
We got there early and decided to walk around in the historic downtown area and began talking about our dreams while strolling along the cobblestone streets. Hopes may be a more appropriate word. I started talking about my daydreams and actually used that word and he stopped me- "You actually daydream?" he asked, wide-eyed, looking at me like I was some exotic creature that took his breath away. "Well, of course," I answered, "I like to imagine what my life will be like while I'm awake, not just by chance while I'm asleep." He beamed. "That is so cool," he said. My heart became so very sad for him. You see, he spent time imagining a life with me, but never on what HE wanted for HIS life. And I realized that day that not everyone daydreamed like I did.
My dreams have changed greatly and so have my friendships. I haven't spoken to My BFFHS in over a year because of a falling out we've had. I was terribly heartbroken and still am. I do daydream about making amends. I hope it one day does come true.
I sometimes daydream about what life would have been like for me if I took a chance on the Neighbor. I wonder if anyone will ever be bold enough again to wrap his arms around my waist and ask me to take a chance. In my dreams, my heart says "Yes."
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