Saturday, November 16, 2002


Just got done with the Saturday night performance of the play. The final one for this week. Really intense tonight. We were all on fire. The crowd really felt it. Still feeling sick. So didn't hang around too long meeting and greeting. Fighting a depression of some kind. A general malaise. Feelings of resistance. It's that feeling of waiting for something to happen and you're thinking, "now when that happens then I can be happy." And I am not exactly sure what that is. Just waiting. Bored. Sad. I know I'm not the only one. I see it in everyone. They go out and drink. Get drunk. Smoke pot, take pills, eat, watch TV till they fall asleep, whatever. Something, anything to fight the feelings, the pain. 

I have felt those desires crawling up in me lately. “O.K. well you know tonight, the play is over, I'm just sitting here. maybe I'll just do this….” but I am beyond that. It doesn’t even seem like an option now. Now there is a strong desire for purity more than ever. So when the feelings do come up I would rather just feel them and explore them—if you have to cry, you cry, or if you have to scream, you scream, let it out—get to the core of them, find out where they are coming from. I have been here before. I know it is a short road between agony and relief; between grief and happiness. Although it doesn’t feel like it sometimes. But the key is in feeling the feelings, owning them, owning what's underneath them, and then letting them go, and then refocusing on your true self and your true desires. 

I remember when me and Cleo broke up. We had moved down to Miami together and by the time we actually moved here, we were already broken up. So here we were in this brand new city that we worked so hard to make this big move to, but we were separated. Lived in separate houses. We told ourselves that it was only temporary. That we were doing it to get some space so we could work it out and get back together, but both of us knew I think inside that it was over, that we were going to be moving on. We both started dating other people. Sharing our experiences over the phone or over dinner sometimes. And little by little it became more and more apparent that it was permanent. That it was really over. We never talked about getting back together. We talked about everything else. Her new house, my new house. The new city we lived in. Work. Money. Friends. But we never discussed getting back together. I would lie in my bed at night some times and feel so overwhelmed with sadness and with longing and maybe cry a little. I would call her sometimes and she wouldn’t answer. Then she would call and I wouldn’t answer. This went on for about a year. Back and forth, each of us staking claim to our boundaries. A little more each day.

But the point is that it was very sad. It was truly the saddest thing I have ever been through. I think it was for both of us. She had a different way of dealing with it. She just went completely crazy. Went out every night. Didn't come to work for days at a time. I spent a lot of time alone. Went to work everyday like clock work. It was all I knew how to do. A lot of time writing and working on songs. A lot of time watching old black and white movies. But through being totally real with the sadness of it, I was able to come through it. It wasn't easy. But I knew that we were doing the right thing. That's why we never talked about getting back together. Because we both knew it was the right thing to do. It was just something we had to get through.

There was only once where it did come up, and perhaps this was the saddest moment out of all of it, or one of them. We were upstairs in my office and she was going off to get married soon. We had gotten into a huge fight, as always. I have never fought with anyone like we fought. Daily almost. Very dramatic and passionate fights. Vicious. And we both were crying. Saying horrible things to each other. And she got up and walked towards the door to leave. Said something to the effect of "you’ve hurt me more than anyone has ever hurt me in my life." and I said, "well you’ve hurt me more than anyone has ever hurt me before." And we both just stared at each other. Waiting. Wondering what was next. I was slumped in a chair sobbing and I looked up at her and I said, "can’t you just marry me instead?" She burst into tears and said, "that's not fair for you to say that. Damn you!" And that was that. 

I couldn’t say anything else. She was right. it wasn't fair because we had already been through years of pain together and were just coming out of it. and this was something that we both knew we had to do. but I had to say it. it just came out. It was my way of acknowledging that feeling that no matter how much we had been through, no matter how much pain and frustration and agony that we had put each other through, that I was still feeling that way somewhere inside. That love really is … what is it? I don't know. It just is the everything. Call it a last gasp. The final farewell. In that moment I meant it with all my heart. And yet I knew that somewhere inside although I meant it, I didn't mean it either. At least not for this lifetime. Not anymore. Our time was up.

After that it was just dealing with the sadness and with the longing for the way things used to be. day by day it got easier. There was comfort in knowing that although it hurt we were doing the right thing. Which is different than the sadness you feel from when you are doing the wrong thing and know it, but don't do anything about it. that is a worse sadness.

Current Spin: brand new album from New Order. Really good. Ten years later. Sounds like it could have come out in 1986. Smiths, New Order, Cure type sound.
Last Movie:  documentary about the making of Magnolia. What a great film.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thank you for your comment. You rock for taking the time to share your ideas and opinions with others.