Nick of Time

I titled this blog post after one of my favorite Bonnie Raitt songs.  It speaks about the people in her life wanting certain things (children), her parents getting older and how she sees her own life changing.  I could not feel anymore similar to this song.  The lyrics haunt my head....

Pretty soon she'll have to choose and it tears her up inside... She's scared...scared she'll run out of time. No matter how you tell yourself, It's what we all go through... Those eyes are pretty hard to take when they're staring' back at you...Scared you'll run out of time.

Relationships can change at any moment.  Lately, it seems as if a lot of my relationships - especially those that mean the most to me, are drastically changing.  I accept and understand that this happens - it's life.  It does not mean that the relationship needs to end.  Rather it can grow, despite being different.  The relationship can strengthen despite distance and change.  Not every relationship has this benefit.  But lately, I have been feeling somewhat out of the loop with some of these relationships.  Chalk it up to my work schedule, different living locations, life changes - it happens.  But the more these changes have been happening, the more alone I feel - even knowing, deep within me, that I am far from alone.

Let's break them down shall we?

Erin.  When Erin got married two years ago tomorrow, I remember being very upset.  I couldn't stop crying.  It felt as if I were losing a part of myself with her.  She was married and I, still single.  I felt as if our days of "fun" were over.  It seemed she was settling into grown up life and I still searched the online dating sites.  It always came back to my job.  That it was a good thing that I had a job that I truly enjoyed.  Flash forward to today.  Erin is now a mother to an absolutely adorable 6 month old baby boy.  I'd be lying if I told you that Erin and I talk frequently.  With both our schedules - hers far more tiring than mine - grinding at us - we are lucky if we text once a week.  I cannot even remember the last time we talked on the phone.  It's hard to talk to someone on the phone when you have a 6 month old in the house and no one to help you watch him.  I get that.  But I miss my old friendship with Erin dearly.  I know as the little guy ages, it will be easier for us - it's a given.  I miss sitting with Erin at her house, watching sports, eating cheese and drinking red wine.  I miss grilling steaks and cleaning her dishes (even though she begged me every time to not do them).  It's not to say this is the way it will always be, but right now it hurts.

Kristin.  Kristin is similar to Erin - except her little guy is a year and a half old.  The distance between myself and Kristin is far greater than Erin and myself.  I'm lucky if I see Kristin once a year.  And I'm lucky if I talk to her more than twice every few months.  Like Erin, once we see each other, it is as if nothing has changed.  We pick up right where we left off - the humor, the connection - it has never subsided.  But I still feel different.  I don't relate to the mom stories that she shares with our other friends.  I cannot compare a nightmarish evening, where my baby wouldn't fall asleep.  No matter how much I try to convince myself that Kristin still values my friendship, I feel as if we have grown apart on a certain level and that's fine.  It all comes back to me missing the old times and me feelings as if, I must be the friend that seems to "carefree and loose".  Oh how that couldn't be further from the truth.  Don't get me wrong, I do have my moments of truly loving my single life - but I have found more often than not I am looking longingly at baby carriages.  I am smiling at mothers who are with their children in the park.  I am at a stage in my life career wise I cannot think about having my own kids.  It's just not feasible.  Financially - heck no.  And my new role is just beginning at work - and I seem to be doing a real good job at it.  I can only imagine that this would mean greater responsibility.

While I embrace that new found responsibility, I question within myself - when do I say, no to career and yes to love?  I said yes to love last year and while she is still in the picture  - I don't know if we are anywhere near the possibility of having kids.  Or even getting married at this rate (to be discussed...)

Ethan.  This one stings.  My best guy friend.  My drinking buddy.  My buddy that just always seems to understand me - even if I said nothing was upsetting me (Erin and Kristin are the same way).  We have had numerous amazing times together.  Ethan has been dating (insert fake name) for over 5 years.  It was always a topic of discussion when Ethan came to visit me - their relationship.  It was obvious that she was all about wanting to marry Ethan and he, well, he was Ethan - typical bachelor.  Whenever Ethan visited me in Boston or New York - he was always alone.  We talked about how she nagged him about pretty much everything and how he wasn't sure when or if he would ever propose.  Well, this May that all changed - but even then I didn't take him seriously.  I poked fun at him a bit during the AIDS Walk - saying, 'are you EVER going to ask her?'  And Ethan quietly said, 'Yea, I'm thinking sometime this summer.'  Truthfully, I didn't believe it.  I just couldn't wrap my head around it.  Ethan is such a prankster, that I figured this was him just pulling the wool over my eyes.  

I couldn't have been more wrong.  One night I was on Facebook and the page refreshed and she updated her relationship status as engaged.  I was stunned.  I was annoyed.  I was sad.  It was a weird few moments of digestion.  I knew this day would come.  I knew Ethan would get engaged; I just didn't expect it to be to HER.  I like her at times.  I do.  Yet for some reason she just doesn't seem to be the one I could see my best guy friend spending the rest of his life with.  Call me selfish, but I am really upset about losing Ethan.  Ok, that sounds a bit extreme - 'losing Ethan'.  But eventually will be gone our solo time.  It will always be about couple time.

Larisa.  This relationship started off very intensely.  An immediate attraction and connection.  There was no denying it.  Larisa simply lured me into her web - and it wasn't just those piercing blue eyes.  She has a beautiful vulnerability to her that tugged right at my heart - I wanted to protect her, to soak up every thing about her.  I loved her despite our few meetings.  It didn't seem real, but it was.  The lengthy e-mails between us - old school writing letters via e-mail - it was incredible.  I was baring my inner most feelings and thoughts on things I had not even thought about in decades.  I was letting someone in and for once I did not hesitate.  It felt natural.  It felt right.  I saw the signs, but I ignored them.  I was, in the words of Phil Collins, in too deep.  The relationship that Larisa was in and out of - the one that was tearing her up inside - was the relationship that should have told me to stop opening my heart.  To stop allowing myself to fall more deeply in love.  

I remember telling her I loved her.  I remember crying because her response was simply that she didn't love me that way.  It was one of the most devastating moments of my life.  I instantly withdrew, but because I cared so very much about her, I let her back in - albeit, I was extremely guarded.  Fast forward over a year - Jennifer and I broke up and Larisa was there for me.  I talked and she listened.  We texted about getting together to do something and for some reason I just never wrote back - chalk it up to a busy hiatus schedule.  And I haven't heard from her since (end of June), nor have I reached out.  I wanted to, but now I'm hesitant.  Once again, Facebook reeks havoc on me.  My curiosity was piqued by a status of 'but I don't **feel** any different'.  I figured it was that she got engaged but wanted people to inquire about it.  Just last week, she replied to the comments, that yes, she indeed was engaged.  I remember feeling sad, yet happy for her.  A part of me wants to reach out, but a part of me doesn't want to.  It's been a long time. Perhaps things wouldn't be any different or perhaps they would.  I might have to let this one marinate awhile longer.

Jennifer.  Where do I begin?  This might even be a post on it's own; however, it is worth of discussing here.  When Jennifer and I were in the early stages of our relationship, I felt a feeling that had been missing from every dating relationship that I had previously had had.  I knew I wanted to be with this woman any and every moment I could get.  I knew she was someone I would be willing to pull back my work schedule for - and even when I couldn't I knew she would understand.  

She broke up with me in June.  I saw it coming.  Hell, we both did.  We were bickering constantly.  We seemed to just completely be at odds about every thing.  I was miserable despite this.  I knew I wanted to marry Jennifer.  I couldn't stomach life without her.  I shut her out for a week.  We met up at church the following Sunday.  We talked, we laughed, we cried.  We had sex.  And we did this a number of times over the course of the next two months.  The communication was better than it had ever been in recent memory between us.  It felt as if we were making terrific strides.  But it started going downhill.  And I would like to say it's better these days; however, there are days where I just cannot stand to be around her.  

Jennifer is struggling with a lot of heavy life stuff these days.  She's never fully grieved her father's death from four years ago; took on the role of keeping an eye on her prescription pill addicted mother, since her brother has his own family and doesn't seem to want to have any part of his mother's life.  She's struggling to find steady employment here (after losing her job at a great company - she wasn't fired); and she's upset she's not auditioning nearly as much as she should to truly be pursuing what she came here for - acting.  

I am finding more and more that I am an outlet for her - that I seem to be someone that she reveals every thing to.  And I can accept that.  I am happy I can provide that for her; however, I am getting restless.  I am getting annoyed that she doesn't ask me about my job.  Or about my newborn niece.  I don't feel right even bringing some of these things in my life up - because they seem so trivial in comparison.  I just don't know how to communicate to Jennifer what I am thinking and when I do, she seems to be disinterested in what I am saying.  

We are butting heads again - like we did when we broke up.  But the difference is, I am away for three to four days.  It's a combination of frustration - and it's awful to say it, but some of it is sexual.  I long to be intimate with Jennifer again, but she basically thwarts every attempt I make.  We cuddle, we kiss here and there, but it's once I go a bit further she gets annoyed.  I try to get her to talk about 'what we are doing' - but she doesn't seem to want to.  She feels we are basically together again.  The thing is... our schedules, mine in particular, don't exactly scream 'lets do something fun.'  We essentially meet up to fall asleep together.  

I could be the bigger person and walk away from this, but I feel trapped.  I know she loves me and I love her.  But there's a bigger picture.  And that bigger picture truly needs to be discussed.  We cannot dance around it any longer.  We will only end up hating each other.  It can destroy us.  It's destroying me inside and I cannot escape these thoughts.  It doesn't seem right that I would ask Jennifer to discuss these heavy thoughts with her, given all that she is going through right now.  I am doing what I do best in times such as these - I bury myself in my work.  We can discuss it soon and we will.  I feel the conversation coming.  There is more I could write - but for now, the parentheses shall close... with one more thought....

Maybe that's just it.  All of these relationships (with the exception of Jennifer) - boil down to this fact.  It's couple time.  Or it's couple time plus baby.  And it's mixed with solo Lindsay.  I have never minded being alone - but as I leave every Friday morning and return late Sunday night or early Monday morning - I long to return to someone.  I long to come home and lie in her arms and just get lost in our silence.  Or soak up each other with laughter.  I want to share my life with someone. 

FROZEN

This seems to be a reoccurring theme every time I come home since I have moved into the city.

Whenever it comes to the night before I have to leave - I get very quiet and sad.  It's especially intensified on my hiatus.  I know it's fun to explore but I just don't feel as inspired to do it now that Jennifer and I broke up.  After all, I wanted to see the sights through her eyes too.

There is an amount of comfort here at my parents that makes the place so special.  I know this is ironic considering how desperate I was to get out of here.  The safety of home - the familiar kitchen, the warm bed, the happiness to see me - I could go on.

I feel frozen.  I want so badly to make career changes, but I don't know how.  I have made little steps by applying to jobs within CBS.  Those steps could be the beginning of something new.  Yet, as I sit and think deeper and deeper, I don't believe I am following my heart.  I have ignored my heart.  I am fearful of the next step at Company.

I really don't like the idea of packing a suitcase every weekend.  Sure I don't have a wife and kids; but I have family that, while I don't see them regularly when working in the studio, it feels as if I am still connected to them because I am based in New York.

I've traveled on a minimal basis for work - got a taste of it and yes, it was fun.  But I don't think I could do it for 39 weekends.  It just doesn't sound fun.  Perhaps if I were 23 or 24 it would be appealing - wide eyed and hungry.  Now nearly 32, there's a difference.  Some of my male coworkers in their 30s don't seem to mind.  That's just it - is it because they are men that it is easier for them to pack up and leave?  Possibly.

I want my heart to be open for the next opportunity - but all it feels is dread.

On Display

The young man stood alone at the center of the stage.  Around his neck, hanging to the middle of his stomach was a mandolin.  One single light shone upon him.  He had a gentle look about him and a well kept not fully established beard.  Soon the silence was broken with a chords and a request from the musician.  

In addition to his lyrics, at a certain point in the song, the audience was asked to sing one line, 'We shall find a way'.  With a slight move of his chin and a pointing of his instrument towards the full capacity crowd, the audience responded in a subtle, yet beautiful, 'We shall find a way.'

I wasn't too sure what to think or what to expect.  My girlfriend and I arrived at the loft on Jay Street in Brooklyn a half hour early to the performance we were supposed to see.  In the meantime, as patrons, we were allowed to enter the theatre to see the other performances.  We walked in just before a movement piece began.  There were three people in this piece - their bodies contorting and flowing ever so gracefully with the fluid music.  I made a point of studying each of their faces at least once during their performance. 

In my near 32 years of life, I have seen numerous ballets, concerts, plays - contrary to what some may believe about me - I am very passionate about the arts.  I was a student of ballet for 12 years and while I wasn't particularly fond of it as I got older (due to classes conflicting with my tennis lessons and other sports I was playing), I have resurrected my love for it - if only slightly.

It was not just their arms moving with the constant ebb and flow of the melody; it was that their faces were filled with countless expressions.  They looked at peace - they were fulfilled.  Yes, the direction of the music changed, the mood of each character changed.  But as I watched each person, I knew they were creating.  They let their feet guide them across the floor.

It was freedom.  It was bliss.  

I watched them with steady yet eager eyes.  Here these people were - strangers to me and no doubt most of the audience and they were showcasing their passion, their love - to us, for us.  I was stirred.  Not shaken.  It was as if someone took a cocktail straw and rattled my ice a bit.

And then came Mandolin man.

He had a sweet, almost innocent smile as he stood on the stage alone.  But he did not appear to be afraid; for he was in his element, he was more than likely fulfilling his first or maybe tenth dream.  His dream to play on a stage in New York City.  It may not be exactly where he wants to be, but for right now, at this moment in a loft in Brooklyn at 10 Jay Street - this is a part of his path.

We shall find a way....

I kept my eyes on him and his expression.  Mandolin man was strumming the chords and his melodic voice filled the room.  And then, we were asked to join with that simple chin and mandolin point.

The simple lyric was repeated and with each time we lightly sung the 5 words, I felt tears in the corners of my eyes gathering and they were soon to fall.  

I took the liberty of changing our lyric for my own purpose; my own mindset.

I shall find a way... (over and over again I quietly sang).  The tears were getting heavier and yet when the salty wetness tumbled down my rosy cheeks - I could feel my body grow lighter, yet heavier.  

I would be lying to you if I told you I was purely and deeply happy.  Are any of us?  

Don't get me wrong, I am happy.  I have a lot to be happy about; but I have always felt a disconnect; that missing puzzle piece hiding behind the couch you struggle to find.  Sometimes it has led to anger - anger dispensed on the wrong people - my parents, my sister.  As time has trickled on since this anger within me was discovered, I realize that perhaps the person I am most angry at, is myself.

Be gentle to yourself.  I can hear my pastor from the Presbyterian Church of Basking Ridge, say to us from the pulpit.  If he only knew my struggle to put these words into action.  For as long as I can remember, I have always been my harshest critic.  Aren’t we all?  I can hear my friends repeating to me over the years – to simply ease up on myself.

The truth is I don’t know how happy I am with my job.  I know I could stand to be happier.  I find the majority of people that I work with in my office to be like a high school clique.  I was never very popular in high school – nor did I need to be.  I was happy with who I was.  Strangely enough, I was at my happiest in what are usually considered ones angst years.  I had my moments and I felt the frustration some nights.  But there was a difference.

I was constantly active – playing three sports, hitting the textbooks and enjoying it (especially my senior year), I was a member of a most incredible youth group, I volunteered.  I was thirsty.  I was driven.  I may not have had the most friends, but I had myself, I was confident in my abilities and the friends I did have, I valued them and they valued me.  I had parents, a sister, grandparents and cousins (some of whom were like a second grandfather or grandmother) who were proud of my accomplishments and never hesitated to tell me how much they loved me. 

What happens as we age?  What keeps the drive alive for some as they progress throughout college and into the work world?  What is it?  Is it some genetic disposition that lights the fire inside?  Is it someone that pushes us because they didn’t think we could do it?  And why do some fall off the path that they were going and head off on another?

It’s called life.  And each day offers a new path for us.  Our day starts off clean as a slate.  We have the opportunity to create our way, our destiny.  We hold the keys.

I have lost sight of what makes my heart tick.  I have lost sight of the carefree life I once led - I miss feeling my hair blowing in the wind with the warm air caressing my body.  Sure, I have grown up - I have grown wise.  But my passions?  Well, they're in desperate need of restoration and even re-discovery.

I want to explore myself.  I want to connect with who I once was.  I want to push myself ever so gently.  I want to be on that smooth, empty stage, creating from scratch.  I am alone on the stage but I am not fearful.  I am breathing steady breaths and my shoulders are rising and falling.  My head bobs lightly back and forth – it is rhythmic.  I loosen my right arm, I watch it flow and my fingers begin to dance.  Then my left arm joins in.  I study my fingers closely, if only for a moment.  My body begins to feels light, weightless and I am moving.

I hear my melody, it’s led by a mandolin and the five simple words in my head….

I shall find a way... 

Next Stop: Adventureland

The summertime in New York City can be a fun experience - especially on weekends - or so I'm told.  The locals flee town for a weekend getaway somewhere fancy (think the Hamptons, nice spots along the Jersey  Shore - or as I know it - the Shore; some venture up to the Cape).  But this summer, due to a serious lack of funds and due to the fact my job STILL requires me to go on an 8 week hiatus, I, along with my girlfriend, have   decided to create a list of things we want to do and see in New York City.  We will try to stay within a budget of course, but we will sometimes splurge. 

Yes, it's been done before. And yes, people have blogged about before and perhaps this won't be any different than any other blog you've read about someone's New York City adventures.  But for me, as I am approaching my 32nd birthday, I feel this itch to see things, to do things that I have not seen.  I have always felt this itch and more often than I would like to admit, I have recently ignored it.  Whether it was out of pure laziness on my part, whether it was the fact I was clinging onto the idea of a possible relationship being rekindled, I realize now, more than ever, that time is precious.  We need to fill up our days with exploration and creation.  We need to see the world with new eyes, each and every day; we need to take a new path, go on the road less traveled.  

 I have done my fair share of traveling alone and I have enjoyed my time alone.  But there comes a time in ones life when you realize you want to experience the world, the sites with someone else.  And who better to do that with, than the one you love; to not only see it through your eyes, but also, her eyes.  Because she too is experiencing these moments, these journeys for the first time.  Nothing would bring me greater joy than to watch my love take in the beauty of Brooklyn's Botanical Garden or taking a tour of the Wax Museum to look at the figures in awe of how real each of them seem - and of course to make goofy poses with them too :)  

We'll do the cliched visits (Empire State Building; we'll do a hidden treasure (come on now, you actually think I would reveal one of NYC's hidden treasures for the blogging world to discover?); we'll do as much as we can, on as little as we can.


Part of me is driven to do this because, no matter what I do, New York doesn't fully feel like home.  I like it, but am I head over heels in love with it?  No.  I don't get all the fuss, but at the same time I do.  I love the culture that is available here (ballet, opera, theatre) - but I rarely get to experience it.  However, ever since Jennifer and I have been dating, I have seen more than my fair share of plays and I am soaking it up.  I love the cuisines that are at my fingertips - and yet, I cannot afford to dine the way I wish I could.  I love how I can get anywhere I want to go via subway 24-7.


Perhaps with these adventures, I will fall in love with New York, just like Carrie Bradshaw - yes, you read it - a blog about New York mentions, Miss New York herself.  


So here begins our journey.  Niffersay's Adventures.  Some might be boring; others down right dreadful.  Some tasty.  Some emotional.  Some entertaining.  But the one guarantee?  A memory for each and every one.  Our list is soon to follow.

 Here's our toast to New York City ... with currently, hesitated love.