"Become Your Dream." The words on the sidewalk were fading from the foot traffic, but it still managed to strike a chord within me. Especially on this day. This day of what felt more like a day of shedding complaints rather than being one of productivity.
I am suddenly hearing cliched phrases, "dreams are what makes life tolerable"; "dreams without follow through are just that, dreams"; "go confidently in the direction of your dreams, live the life you've imagined." "A dream is a wish your heart makes." "The only one that will stop you from fulfilling your dreams, is you."
That's just it. What is my dream? What drives me? Where is my inner compass? Perhaps I am treading on this too deeply as I have just escaped the hurricane that is March Madness - 16 plus hour days for over a month. It doesn't feel like a dream job when you are sitting in an edit room at 2:30 in the morning, listening to a producer berate you about not having particular footage.
Silently you can think, somehow, some way it's going to get better than this. And it will - shouldn't it? One day you'll be in that chair, demanding where the footage is from some overworked, underpaid broadcast associate who should be relishing in the opportunity to be part of such an organization.
This industry requires commitment - like a marriage and I don't know if I could even consider proposing. And yet for the last four seasons, I have committed myself to this company. I know no other way, I just dive in and go along for the ride. I shouldn't simply hop on, I should try to sneak my way to the front, I should be the curious kid that asks endless questions; that pesters people for more information. I should be the one that people get sick of, but remember.
I feel as if I have just been spat out from the hurricane, that I am part of the wreckage. Do my tired eyes reveal too much? Do I look as if I long to pour my soul to anyone who will listen? Do I look as if I mistrust anyone who approaches me? Do I feel lost? You betcha. All of the above.
When I step back and even when I am going through it, I see how tired I get, I see what it does to my social life (even though it's not the best of social lives to begin with). I often think about my co-workers who are married - how on earth do they do it? Some of them have children! Is it easier for them because they are men? Without a doubt.
Perhaps I am not tired of the industry, rather, I am tired of the company. I am restless and as someone told me today, when she feels restless, that is usually when she is about to experience a growth spurt. I have developed some strong roots at my company and potentially there is more there for me to experience, but I feel restless. My roots have created a trunk and branches have grown, but I'm getting taller and I cannot help but think there is something else out there for me.
There is a tiny voice within me and it's championed by the voices of my everlasting, always supportive parents. Why on earth would I even consider leaving the top network that produces sports (other than that big company in farm land Connecticut)? After all, I have been given opportunities other people that share my title, have not had. I have had the chance to cut features for a program and recently it was nominated for a Sports Emmy. It has very little chance to win, but as the saying goes, 'it's just an honor to be nominated.' I'm proud of my work on the program, but recently it just doesn't inspire me the way it should. I'm ashamed to admit that.
I know a part of it is because I am tired and worn out, but who's to say if I were far from stretched out and emotionally spent that I would feel the excitement of achieving something I have thought about since I enrolled in graduate school.
Next to me is a small glass of whiskey. It's become a nightly routine within the last few days. I take a hot shower, pin up my hair and let the water take over my tired skin. I melt into my pajamas and find my smallest glass. I cram ice into it and pour myself a decent amount. It doesn't burn anymore when I drink it. It goes down smooth and I love the numbing that travels through my body as I gently sip it. It doesn't numb the thoughts that echo through my mind, rather it makes them come alive, they become real. I am able to be a bit more introspective and dig down deep. I don't see this becoming a crutch, it's something that's working for right now and that's all I can ask for.
I wanna go to bed with arms around me but wake up on my own ~ Dido "I Don't Believe in Love"
I long for comfort; but refuse to fall into something completely unless it feels right. I feel my mask, my shell casing slowly breaking away. I am beginning to feel naked; I am beginning to feel as if people are seeing through my smile. I feel the urge to run, to start anew. My eyes burn - do they reveal this tiredness that has taken over every inch of my body, every aching bone? My mind feels like a speeding subway, destination unknown.
Become your dream...
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Serendipity
We met this past summer at Prop during Pride Week. I was not expecting to meet anyone, since I went with the purpose of being Jane's "bodyguard" from her then ex and now girlfriend. I almost took the position too seriously. Perhaps it was because I knew how much Susan had hurt Jane; or maybe it was my own arrogance liking the idea of protecting someone.
At some point in the evening I met Randi. Within moments of meeting, we had found our way to an open spot on one of the couches, where we proceeded to kiss. So much for being a bodyguard. Though, surprisingly, I had done my job and I even managed to give my two cents to Susan who I managed to bump into on the way out of the bathroom.
Cutting to the chase, Randi and I had a half-stand that night. It wasn't a complete one-night stand. Nothing was done to me, it was all about Randi that night, but we stopped midway through. There was someone in picture for her, who had shown up with someone else. In sense she was using me; however, for some reason, it never felt that way. Maybe it was my mild intoxication - intoxication of the mind, of the sensations - feeling another body, the tango of lips that I hadn't felt since the week before. I was craving more from my previous encounter in Connecticut the weekend before.
I left the next morning, it was awkward, it was uncomfortable; however, I tried to play it as cool as possible. I reminded Randi that she deserved to be treated with respect and what this woman had done to her last night was despicable. I kissed her gently on the lips and let one of my hands fall down her cheek. I was nervous - I had never been in this situation before. Should I kiss her more? Do I say more? Do I - ? I stopped myself short in my train of thought and let myself out.
A couple of weeks before I moved into New York City, I received two text messages from Randi. She told me I came into her thoughts that day, that she wasn't sure I would remember her (how could I not?), that she apologized for the awkwardness of the situation - that she was in a rough spot and hoped I was doing well. Naturally, I wrote her back. I emphasized that my style wasn't to go home with someone the first night of meeting them; but that I was worried about her and how she had been treated and hoped she was doing well. I also told her I was moving into New York in a few weeks. And so began our correspondence. Mildly flirtatious - at least I thought so.
It's going beyond that now. We go out to dinner and movies, we talk about our exes, we talk about our coming out stories, we lean into each other, we smile, we hug. That's just it - we end every meeting with a hug. There's a part of me that loves spending time with Randi, exploring this city that I now call home. I feel comfortable with Randi, I like the laughter we share and the warm smiles over food. But every now and then, I try to test the waters - to try to kiss her at least on the cheek to see if it triggers something else.
There are times I feel as if Randi is disinterested in me - or pretty much anything I say. She emits this vibe of boredom when I speak and perhaps I am being too harsh, but I don't know how much longer I would want to be around someone like her. I want to be around someone who laughs with me (which she does), someone who asks me about me or my work or my interests. Randi doesn't seem to take interest. Randi's even taken her phone out during conversation - a pet peeve of mine; however, I have blown it off and told her I work in an industry where people are constantly looking at something other than the person who is speaking to them (which I do and my boss does it all the time - it's rather annoying).
I guess it is this day in age. But I would like to think that most people could put their phones down for more than a half hour. Randi's not one of those people. Tonight her phone "died" and she looked at me with this look as if her dog had died. "I feel so," she paused. And I knew exactly what she was going to say so I interjected, "naked". "Exactly!" Randi remarked excitedly.
I want to kiss Randi, but there's a part of me that feels it should have happened by now. She has nicknames for me (Ginger spice is the latest). Today she called me kiddo. I began analyzing this - and then I stopped myself. It was hard not to analyze it because of the fact kiddo just seems so, well, juvenile. Not to mention that I called a number of my friends in high school kiddo. It was a term of endearment. Not to mention, my dad calls me kiddo. Yikes.
We went to Serendipity for dessert tonight. Yes, that cliched restaurant that a movie was named after and scenes were filmed. And you know what? I loved every moment of it. It was so charming, cozy and delightful. There's a but... can you tell by the way I'm writing? We were seated next to an overly affectionate couple and it was quite nauseating. As much as I look forward to having that day return, I think I would manage to curb my affection for my loved one in public, to keep people from potentially losing their appetites.
I could sense Randi was looking at the couple too - I thought briefly about what she might be thinking about looking at this couple. It was uncomfortable after awhile, especially since you couldn't escape the affection. It was visible in the corner of my eye and couple that with the mirror - I couldn't escape mentally either.
When we left and walked towards her subway stop (I was walking back to my apartment), I asked her if she would like to come back for another glass of wine. I was quickly turned down due to being tired - it was a fast denial and it stung. But I didn't let it sting for long because the reality of the situation was that Randi had only returned from the West Coast one day earlier. She had had a brutal journey back to New York City thanks to the post-Christmas blizzard. I refused to be upset.
But as I walked home tonight, with my Ipod playing in my ears and the cold wind blasting me in both directions - I felt confused. I felt uncertain. Friends? Frightened attracted women? Did I actually feel anything for Randi? Where was that spark that I felt the last night she and I had had dinner before Randi went home for the holiday? Where was my stomach flip when I looked at her over the candlelight at our table?
I know that not everyone I meet I am meant to be with. This isn't something that HAS to happen. And I'm okay with it not happening. I like the idea of dating and meeting all sorts of women to find that one. But she keeps coming back and I keep replying. Perhaps it is because I am new to the city and I don't want to lose this connection, even though this connection is far from being in the scene. We're removed from the scene in which we met. We met in chaos, perhaps by serendipity. And now, time will only tell...
At some point in the evening I met Randi. Within moments of meeting, we had found our way to an open spot on one of the couches, where we proceeded to kiss. So much for being a bodyguard. Though, surprisingly, I had done my job and I even managed to give my two cents to Susan who I managed to bump into on the way out of the bathroom.
Cutting to the chase, Randi and I had a half-stand that night. It wasn't a complete one-night stand. Nothing was done to me, it was all about Randi that night, but we stopped midway through. There was someone in picture for her, who had shown up with someone else. In sense she was using me; however, for some reason, it never felt that way. Maybe it was my mild intoxication - intoxication of the mind, of the sensations - feeling another body, the tango of lips that I hadn't felt since the week before. I was craving more from my previous encounter in Connecticut the weekend before.
I left the next morning, it was awkward, it was uncomfortable; however, I tried to play it as cool as possible. I reminded Randi that she deserved to be treated with respect and what this woman had done to her last night was despicable. I kissed her gently on the lips and let one of my hands fall down her cheek. I was nervous - I had never been in this situation before. Should I kiss her more? Do I say more? Do I - ? I stopped myself short in my train of thought and let myself out.
A couple of weeks before I moved into New York City, I received two text messages from Randi. She told me I came into her thoughts that day, that she wasn't sure I would remember her (how could I not?), that she apologized for the awkwardness of the situation - that she was in a rough spot and hoped I was doing well. Naturally, I wrote her back. I emphasized that my style wasn't to go home with someone the first night of meeting them; but that I was worried about her and how she had been treated and hoped she was doing well. I also told her I was moving into New York in a few weeks. And so began our correspondence. Mildly flirtatious - at least I thought so.
It's going beyond that now. We go out to dinner and movies, we talk about our exes, we talk about our coming out stories, we lean into each other, we smile, we hug. That's just it - we end every meeting with a hug. There's a part of me that loves spending time with Randi, exploring this city that I now call home. I feel comfortable with Randi, I like the laughter we share and the warm smiles over food. But every now and then, I try to test the waters - to try to kiss her at least on the cheek to see if it triggers something else.
There are times I feel as if Randi is disinterested in me - or pretty much anything I say. She emits this vibe of boredom when I speak and perhaps I am being too harsh, but I don't know how much longer I would want to be around someone like her. I want to be around someone who laughs with me (which she does), someone who asks me about me or my work or my interests. Randi doesn't seem to take interest. Randi's even taken her phone out during conversation - a pet peeve of mine; however, I have blown it off and told her I work in an industry where people are constantly looking at something other than the person who is speaking to them (which I do and my boss does it all the time - it's rather annoying).
I guess it is this day in age. But I would like to think that most people could put their phones down for more than a half hour. Randi's not one of those people. Tonight her phone "died" and she looked at me with this look as if her dog had died. "I feel so," she paused. And I knew exactly what she was going to say so I interjected, "naked". "Exactly!" Randi remarked excitedly.
I want to kiss Randi, but there's a part of me that feels it should have happened by now. She has nicknames for me (Ginger spice is the latest). Today she called me kiddo. I began analyzing this - and then I stopped myself. It was hard not to analyze it because of the fact kiddo just seems so, well, juvenile. Not to mention that I called a number of my friends in high school kiddo. It was a term of endearment. Not to mention, my dad calls me kiddo. Yikes.
We went to Serendipity for dessert tonight. Yes, that cliched restaurant that a movie was named after and scenes were filmed. And you know what? I loved every moment of it. It was so charming, cozy and delightful. There's a but... can you tell by the way I'm writing? We were seated next to an overly affectionate couple and it was quite nauseating. As much as I look forward to having that day return, I think I would manage to curb my affection for my loved one in public, to keep people from potentially losing their appetites.
I could sense Randi was looking at the couple too - I thought briefly about what she might be thinking about looking at this couple. It was uncomfortable after awhile, especially since you couldn't escape the affection. It was visible in the corner of my eye and couple that with the mirror - I couldn't escape mentally either.
When we left and walked towards her subway stop (I was walking back to my apartment), I asked her if she would like to come back for another glass of wine. I was quickly turned down due to being tired - it was a fast denial and it stung. But I didn't let it sting for long because the reality of the situation was that Randi had only returned from the West Coast one day earlier. She had had a brutal journey back to New York City thanks to the post-Christmas blizzard. I refused to be upset.
But as I walked home tonight, with my Ipod playing in my ears and the cold wind blasting me in both directions - I felt confused. I felt uncertain. Friends? Frightened attracted women? Did I actually feel anything for Randi? Where was that spark that I felt the last night she and I had had dinner before Randi went home for the holiday? Where was my stomach flip when I looked at her over the candlelight at our table?
I know that not everyone I meet I am meant to be with. This isn't something that HAS to happen. And I'm okay with it not happening. I like the idea of dating and meeting all sorts of women to find that one. But she keeps coming back and I keep replying. Perhaps it is because I am new to the city and I don't want to lose this connection, even though this connection is far from being in the scene. We're removed from the scene in which we met. We met in chaos, perhaps by serendipity. And now, time will only tell...
Monday, December 27, 2010
Time after Time
There's always going to be Lucy - and I love that thought. But there's a feeling of emptiness now and then when I think of her. An emptiness that seems to brutally ache and burn through me. I wrestle with my feelings for Lucy; not that if they are real or not, but whether or not I will ever tell her just how much I have fallen for her. There's something special about our connection; and that's such a weak way to describe it. This past week I ventured out to Lucy's hometown to go to a Solstice party at her parents house. She wanted only me there (none of her friends were invited) - as said in an e-mail. Due to a light workload, I was able to do this. It was a beautiful time and of course I soaked up every moment I could with her.
When Lucy drove me back to the train station that night, we talked about how much "this" (never really saying what "this" was) meant to us; I told her that I didn't want to lose it. Lucy insisted that I wouldn't. Of course all I could think about was, "what if I told you I've managed to fall for you?" I wouldn't dare bring that up in a 7 minute car ride to a train station - where I would be getting on a train for 2.5 hours. I'd rather do it in person, where we would be forced to talk out the situation, as uncomfortable as it might get.
That brings us to about 10 minutes before the train arrived in New London. The conversation turned to wants in life. And I mentioned that, "I don't know what I want." I prayed that she didn't see through my lying eyes that fixated on her. My short term memory is blanking on her reply. What I truly meant was, "I know exactly what I want in life. I want you. I want us to be together. I want you to leave him and give us a shot. What I feel with you, every time I see you is something I have never felt and something I want to continue to feel."
We exchanged two deep, prolonged hugs before I left - both times I kissed Lucy on the cheek. The second time, she kissed me on the cheek as well. That was the closest we've been to kissing since the second time we met. Then again, we always share very close moments, moments that take my breath away. It's not just moments with Lucy, it's entire visits, every time time go to arrives, I feel it has come much too soon. I often find myself thinking about how she feels.
I want to tell her how I feel, but I fear the outcome. I don't think I would fear the outcome as much if I had not heard Lucy's history with the guy she is presently seeing. It would appear he has been madly in love with her for years - they've slept together, he wanted commitment and she refused to give it to him (as she has run away from commitment many times in her life - as she has confessed to me). He has left the country a few times over the years as a result of Lucy not giving him what he wants. He simply leaves everything behind and goes away.
Why Lucy has elected to give him commitment this time around I do not know. They have come close to breaking up a few times (the closest being at the end of October), but as a result of a massive fight and a talking of how logically it would make more sense for them to be apart, they decided to fight the odds and try to make it work. Since that time, according to Lucy, the relationship has been solid. Within the last three weeks, I have felt this pull from Lucy that was there before I learned they were together; this yearning feeling that I hadn't felt all that much with her that I had before. Of course I felt it, but this time the feeling was so much stronger.
I wanted Lucy with me, by my side. I wanted her to be sitting with me in my edit room while I worked. It appeared she wanted to be with me as well and that's when I received the invitation to visit her hometown.
If I tell her how I feel, I run the risk of making it awkward between us - a friendship that feels deeper than any friendship that I have had in my lifetime and that is not intended to belittle any of my friendships (including the ones with my best friends). This is a friendship that goes beyond, a friendship that could build a beautiful, everlasting love. We have that sexual chemistry, that fluidity between us - it's natural and it's incredible (again, such a weak way to describe it). If I tell her, I run the risk of her telling me she doesn't feel the same way. Could the aftermath survive my confession? Could I be strong enough to get over my feelings for her and maintain a friendship? The hard part is that we've both established we have something and perhaps one day it could be more; but in the meantime, we love getting to know one another, having our connection deepen with every visit, every e-mail exchanged.
There's a gigantic part of me that feels I am riding these feelings alone. And then I see her look at me from across a dimly lit room and I cannot help but think that gentle smile she sends in my direction is a way of saying, 'I feel it too.' It's the romantic in me I guess. I think about how close our lips were last Tuesday night and while my heart does not race, it feels just right; steady.
When Lucy drove me back to the train station that night, we talked about how much "this" (never really saying what "this" was) meant to us; I told her that I didn't want to lose it. Lucy insisted that I wouldn't. Of course all I could think about was, "what if I told you I've managed to fall for you?" I wouldn't dare bring that up in a 7 minute car ride to a train station - where I would be getting on a train for 2.5 hours. I'd rather do it in person, where we would be forced to talk out the situation, as uncomfortable as it might get.
That brings us to about 10 minutes before the train arrived in New London. The conversation turned to wants in life. And I mentioned that, "I don't know what I want." I prayed that she didn't see through my lying eyes that fixated on her. My short term memory is blanking on her reply. What I truly meant was, "I know exactly what I want in life. I want you. I want us to be together. I want you to leave him and give us a shot. What I feel with you, every time I see you is something I have never felt and something I want to continue to feel."
We exchanged two deep, prolonged hugs before I left - both times I kissed Lucy on the cheek. The second time, she kissed me on the cheek as well. That was the closest we've been to kissing since the second time we met. Then again, we always share very close moments, moments that take my breath away. It's not just moments with Lucy, it's entire visits, every time time go to arrives, I feel it has come much too soon. I often find myself thinking about how she feels.
I want to tell her how I feel, but I fear the outcome. I don't think I would fear the outcome as much if I had not heard Lucy's history with the guy she is presently seeing. It would appear he has been madly in love with her for years - they've slept together, he wanted commitment and she refused to give it to him (as she has run away from commitment many times in her life - as she has confessed to me). He has left the country a few times over the years as a result of Lucy not giving him what he wants. He simply leaves everything behind and goes away.
Why Lucy has elected to give him commitment this time around I do not know. They have come close to breaking up a few times (the closest being at the end of October), but as a result of a massive fight and a talking of how logically it would make more sense for them to be apart, they decided to fight the odds and try to make it work. Since that time, according to Lucy, the relationship has been solid. Within the last three weeks, I have felt this pull from Lucy that was there before I learned they were together; this yearning feeling that I hadn't felt all that much with her that I had before. Of course I felt it, but this time the feeling was so much stronger.
I wanted Lucy with me, by my side. I wanted her to be sitting with me in my edit room while I worked. It appeared she wanted to be with me as well and that's when I received the invitation to visit her hometown.
If I tell her how I feel, I run the risk of making it awkward between us - a friendship that feels deeper than any friendship that I have had in my lifetime and that is not intended to belittle any of my friendships (including the ones with my best friends). This is a friendship that goes beyond, a friendship that could build a beautiful, everlasting love. We have that sexual chemistry, that fluidity between us - it's natural and it's incredible (again, such a weak way to describe it). If I tell her, I run the risk of her telling me she doesn't feel the same way. Could the aftermath survive my confession? Could I be strong enough to get over my feelings for her and maintain a friendship? The hard part is that we've both established we have something and perhaps one day it could be more; but in the meantime, we love getting to know one another, having our connection deepen with every visit, every e-mail exchanged.
There's a gigantic part of me that feels I am riding these feelings alone. And then I see her look at me from across a dimly lit room and I cannot help but think that gentle smile she sends in my direction is a way of saying, 'I feel it too.' It's the romantic in me I guess. I think about how close our lips were last Tuesday night and while my heart does not race, it feels just right; steady.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Chances Are
These are the lyrics of a song that was sent to me by Lucy today. With every line I could feel my mind trailing off in thought - how romantic, how deep and pure these lyrics are. And then I thought, well this is exactly how I feel about her, does Lucy feel as if this is how she feels about me? I do intend to "fight" or say what I need to say about what I feel for her; and I dare say I might use some of these lyrics to guide me through it.
Chances are you'll find me
Somewhere on your road tonight
Seems I always end up driving by
Ever since I've known you
It seems you're on my way
All the rules of logic don't apply
I long to see you in the night
Be with you 'til morning light
I remember clearly how you looked
The night we met
I recall your laughter and your smile
I remember how you made me
Feel so at ease
I remember all your grace and your style
And now you're all I long to see
You've come to mean so much to me
Chances are I'll see you
In my dreams tonight
You'll be smiling like the night we met
Chances are I'll hold you and I'll offer
All I have
You're the only one I can't forget
Baby you're the best I've ever met
And I'll be dreaming of the future
And hoping you'll be by my side
And in the morning I'll be longing for the night
For the night
Chances are I'll see you
Somewhere in my dreams tonight
You'll be smiling like the night we met
Chances are I'll hold you and I'll offer
All I have
You're the only one I can't forget
Baby you're the best I've ever met
Sitting in the graphics room of Studio 43, I didn't have much of an opportunity to respond appropriately. I managed a simple reply of how the lyrics were very powerful. I couldn't bring myself to say how much the lyrics struck a nerve within me. When I do say how I feel, I refuse to let it be through a letter - though many of my letters have opened the door, paved the way, laid the groundwork.
Who would have thought that Katy Perry's lyrics would also strike a chord within me; especially a song titled, "Teenage Dream". Lucy is more than a teenage dream, she is my missing piece. And Katy sings about that specific feeling towards the end of her addictive song, that I don't find myself ever growing tired of.
My heart stops..when you look at me.. take a chance & don't ever look back.. I finally found you my missing puzzle piece.
And that's just it. Lucy completes me. I know I can see the eyes rolling for the beyond cheesy Jerry Maguire reference, but it's so true. My whole life I have felt as if something were missing - all my puzzle pieces were jumbled; and as I have grown older, the puzzle has come together, inch by inch. Sometimes pieces that looked like the fit, ended up being the wrong one - but such is life. We move on, we grow and we learn there is more out there that help us find the answers, to fit the pieces of our puzzle that is our life.
Chances are you'll find me
Somewhere on your road tonight
Seems I always end up driving by
Ever since I've known you
It seems you're on my way
All the rules of logic don't apply
I long to see you in the night
Be with you 'til morning light
I remember clearly how you looked
The night we met
I recall your laughter and your smile
I remember how you made me
Feel so at ease
I remember all your grace and your style
And now you're all I long to see
You've come to mean so much to me
Chances are I'll see you
In my dreams tonight
You'll be smiling like the night we met
Chances are I'll hold you and I'll offer
All I have
You're the only one I can't forget
Baby you're the best I've ever met
And I'll be dreaming of the future
And hoping you'll be by my side
And in the morning I'll be longing for the night
For the night
Chances are I'll see you
Somewhere in my dreams tonight
You'll be smiling like the night we met
Chances are I'll hold you and I'll offer
All I have
You're the only one I can't forget
Baby you're the best I've ever met
Sitting in the graphics room of Studio 43, I didn't have much of an opportunity to respond appropriately. I managed a simple reply of how the lyrics were very powerful. I couldn't bring myself to say how much the lyrics struck a nerve within me. When I do say how I feel, I refuse to let it be through a letter - though many of my letters have opened the door, paved the way, laid the groundwork.
Who would have thought that Katy Perry's lyrics would also strike a chord within me; especially a song titled, "Teenage Dream". Lucy is more than a teenage dream, she is my missing piece. And Katy sings about that specific feeling towards the end of her addictive song, that I don't find myself ever growing tired of.
My heart stops..when you look at me.. take a chance & don't ever look back.. I finally found you my missing puzzle piece.
And that's just it. Lucy completes me. I know I can see the eyes rolling for the beyond cheesy Jerry Maguire reference, but it's so true. My whole life I have felt as if something were missing - all my puzzle pieces were jumbled; and as I have grown older, the puzzle has come together, inch by inch. Sometimes pieces that looked like the fit, ended up being the wrong one - but such is life. We move on, we grow and we learn there is more out there that help us find the answers, to fit the pieces of our puzzle that is our life.
Friday, October 29, 2010
The Fire Inside
You could have the fullest stomach - eaten the heartiest meal - feel completely satisfied and yet you cannot escape the burn. The burn inside you that Usher sang about. Come on now, don't be ashamed to admit that you know the song and found yourself connecting with the lyrics or singing along pathetically at least once in your life.
I'm twisted cuz one side of me is tellin' me that I need to move on on the other side I wanna break down and cry.
Hmm.. just me? Oh well, fine by me...
The burn has returned - and when I first started writing this entry on NJ Transit this morning, the burn was creeping in now and then. But tonight at 9:50pm from Room 1707 in Midtown Manhattan the burning may just be here to stay. I may need to wallow myself in the burning for an unknown period of time. Or maybe I'll be smart enough to take my hand off the stove.
It's this intense ache, that feels like your insides are going to collapse within you, to close up. It's desert like. Hollow inside - echo, echo, echo... is there anyone in there????
How can you feel so hollow when there is so much inside? How can you feel the burn when you know it can and will get better?
Deep down you know it's best for yourself, but you hate just the thought of her being with someone else...
And that's just it. I cringe, I burn, I abhor the idea of Lucy being in the arms of someone other than me. But why should I get this emotionally invested in someone who, while we have managed to connect deeply - deeper than I have ever connected with anyone in my 30 years - rock my inner core to the extent that it has knocked me flat on my behind. I fell for words on a page and I am the one to blame. Ok, so I fell for more than that - our meeting in New York earlier this month gave me slight hope. Oh hope, you are a bitch.
November 14th Lucy and I are supposed to spend the day together, 'a low key day together, where we can be ourselves...' she wrote to me last week. She went on to say how refreshing that that day sounded and I too was anticipating the day, especially since it would mark the second Sunday I would be living in New York City. There would be so much to explore with Lucy, so much to talk about. I saw us walking quietly side by side, perhaps our hands in our pockets (yes, a deliberate shout out to the lyrical genius Alanis Morrisette), catching slight glances of each other, through our perifial vision - potential blushing (more done by yours truly, because I tend to blush at every thing) - all through the Upper East Side and beyond. Exploring my new home, learning more about this woman I have become utterly fixated on; perhaps I'd reach for her hand or perhaps I would let the day play out.
And now? I fear November 14th. I wonder if I have the ability to stomach a platonic visit from someone I have unraveled my once guarded heart. I saw the warning signs and I kept going full speed ahead. I tried to pull back, but the letters kept coming back with such frequency, such sincerity, such thought...
I am tempted to take a path of silence, but perhaps that might be to suspect. Perhaps instead, I will continue our correspondence, but maintain a level of silence. Erect a wall. Lucy tumbled some of my walls that I erected over long periods of time; and now, it only seems logical to start building them again. I cannot stomach the thought of having my heart ache any deeper than it is presently aching. Then creeps in the thought of stomaching the idea of not having Lucy in my life and that burns like a raging inferno.
I'm twisted cuz one side of me is tellin' me that I need to move on on the other side I wanna break down and cry.
Hmm.. just me? Oh well, fine by me...
The burn has returned - and when I first started writing this entry on NJ Transit this morning, the burn was creeping in now and then. But tonight at 9:50pm from Room 1707 in Midtown Manhattan the burning may just be here to stay. I may need to wallow myself in the burning for an unknown period of time. Or maybe I'll be smart enough to take my hand off the stove.
It's this intense ache, that feels like your insides are going to collapse within you, to close up. It's desert like. Hollow inside - echo, echo, echo... is there anyone in there????
How can you feel so hollow when there is so much inside? How can you feel the burn when you know it can and will get better?
Deep down you know it's best for yourself, but you hate just the thought of her being with someone else...
And that's just it. I cringe, I burn, I abhor the idea of Lucy being in the arms of someone other than me. But why should I get this emotionally invested in someone who, while we have managed to connect deeply - deeper than I have ever connected with anyone in my 30 years - rock my inner core to the extent that it has knocked me flat on my behind. I fell for words on a page and I am the one to blame. Ok, so I fell for more than that - our meeting in New York earlier this month gave me slight hope. Oh hope, you are a bitch.
November 14th Lucy and I are supposed to spend the day together, 'a low key day together, where we can be ourselves...' she wrote to me last week. She went on to say how refreshing that that day sounded and I too was anticipating the day, especially since it would mark the second Sunday I would be living in New York City. There would be so much to explore with Lucy, so much to talk about. I saw us walking quietly side by side, perhaps our hands in our pockets (yes, a deliberate shout out to the lyrical genius Alanis Morrisette), catching slight glances of each other, through our perifial vision - potential blushing (more done by yours truly, because I tend to blush at every thing) - all through the Upper East Side and beyond. Exploring my new home, learning more about this woman I have become utterly fixated on; perhaps I'd reach for her hand or perhaps I would let the day play out.
And now? I fear November 14th. I wonder if I have the ability to stomach a platonic visit from someone I have unraveled my once guarded heart. I saw the warning signs and I kept going full speed ahead. I tried to pull back, but the letters kept coming back with such frequency, such sincerity, such thought...
I am tempted to take a path of silence, but perhaps that might be to suspect. Perhaps instead, I will continue our correspondence, but maintain a level of silence. Erect a wall. Lucy tumbled some of my walls that I erected over long periods of time; and now, it only seems logical to start building them again. I cannot stomach the thought of having my heart ache any deeper than it is presently aching. Then creeps in the thought of stomaching the idea of not having Lucy in my life and that burns like a raging inferno.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Just Say The Word
The gentle notification sound alerted me at 11am. I saw the sea green light in the corner of my eye. I was anticipating a witty reply to my earlier text to my soon to be married best friend; however, when I went to check it, I was met with a most wonderful surprise.
It was Lucy.
I blushed, I felt my heart skip a few beats faster, I managed a smile.
::hugs::
Simple. Beautiful. I could see her smile through the text.
I wasn't expecting to hear from her - especially since she's off camping down South somewhere. Camping, I have assumed, with the guy she's seeing. I'm not certain, but I think it's a fair assumption.
Of course it's not good to look too deeply into anything, especially texts. But it's very hard not to, considering our connection; considering the intensity of our last two letters between each other. We essentially (myself perhaps more so), unmasked our feelings for one another. We put ourselves out there, naked, fearing the response. We took a leap of faith.
For Lucy, the wait time for a response from yours truly needed less than a day. Perhaps it was a bit over eager to reply so quickly, but I knew I could not stay silent. I needed to say what I needed to say. I became the cliched, overplayed John Mayer song.
You'd better know that in the end, it's better to say too much then never say what you need to say again. Even if your hands are shaking and your faith is broken, even as the eyes are closing do it with a heart wide open.
I don't regret my instant reply. I'm through fearing and over analyzing, particularly when it comes to matters of my heart. Lucy and I have something extraordinary and while it's not ours, it potentially could be. Of course, I will continue to go about my routine and look after myself. I will not settle on this. I will make every attempt to go out any meet other women - especially since my schedule these days gives me a bit more flexibility. I do feel a visit to the Village is in the near future. I hope it's ready for me, because I am more than ready for it.
It was I who had to stew in the silence, to marinate in it. It was painful at first, but fortunately work picked up towards the end of the week, as it does every week. Of course, I would be lying if I said I were at complete ease with everything I said in my last letter. I was far from it; I was a wreck. I think I reread my letter (especially the parts previously mentioned in an earlier entry) at least 10 times. I feared the silence, but I also held onto a quiet belief that my words were warmly received. That it was Lucy's trip that kept her from responding. Even still, confessing, bluntly, that you think you have something beautiful with someone already in a relationship is an unnerving experience in itself.
Sea green - a color that has always managed to calm me, restored the calm today. Restored the churning waters to a steady, strong current.
Naturally, I had already started a letter last week that laid out how I hope my last letter wasn't too much. I discussed how I had no intention, whatsoever, to reek havoc on her present relationship. I said I didn't think I could live with the thought of ruining someone else's relationship - especially someone who I cared about. The letter went on to say how I wanted to continue our talking, our sharing of hopes and dreams for our lives, careers etc., that I still want her to visit me in New York - all of it that involves getting to know Lucy even better. To make our connection even stronger. I concluded the unsent letter with,
What I do know amidst all of this, is that as ridiculous as this may seem or sound, I cannot imagine my life without you - especially with this connection we share.
We texted for a short period of time today. I wasn't expecting much. However, in that brief time I learned that my letter wasn't too much, that none of my letters are ever too much. Ok. I'll take this, but I won't believe it until I read Lucy's next letter or when I hear her say those words to me. I won't believe it until Lucy looks into my eyes and tells me, that my words didn't cross the line. I won't believe it until we can both sit across from each other at a dinner table and say that is friendship for now - a friendship unlike any other, with incredibly beautiful potential.
The more I type those words, the more I realize, I am almost writing myself a script - for a silent mantra, a repetition, to keep me focused, to keep me realistic, to not let the whimsical, passionate side of me get caught up in the idea, in the dream. I need to continue to remain focused on my career and perhaps even more important to focus on is the fact Lucy is unattainable.
For now.
It was Lucy.
I blushed, I felt my heart skip a few beats faster, I managed a smile.
::hugs::
Simple. Beautiful. I could see her smile through the text.
I wasn't expecting to hear from her - especially since she's off camping down South somewhere. Camping, I have assumed, with the guy she's seeing. I'm not certain, but I think it's a fair assumption.
Of course it's not good to look too deeply into anything, especially texts. But it's very hard not to, considering our connection; considering the intensity of our last two letters between each other. We essentially (myself perhaps more so), unmasked our feelings for one another. We put ourselves out there, naked, fearing the response. We took a leap of faith.
For Lucy, the wait time for a response from yours truly needed less than a day. Perhaps it was a bit over eager to reply so quickly, but I knew I could not stay silent. I needed to say what I needed to say. I became the cliched, overplayed John Mayer song.
You'd better know that in the end, it's better to say too much then never say what you need to say again. Even if your hands are shaking and your faith is broken, even as the eyes are closing do it with a heart wide open.
I don't regret my instant reply. I'm through fearing and over analyzing, particularly when it comes to matters of my heart. Lucy and I have something extraordinary and while it's not ours, it potentially could be. Of course, I will continue to go about my routine and look after myself. I will not settle on this. I will make every attempt to go out any meet other women - especially since my schedule these days gives me a bit more flexibility. I do feel a visit to the Village is in the near future. I hope it's ready for me, because I am more than ready for it.
It was I who had to stew in the silence, to marinate in it. It was painful at first, but fortunately work picked up towards the end of the week, as it does every week. Of course, I would be lying if I said I were at complete ease with everything I said in my last letter. I was far from it; I was a wreck. I think I reread my letter (especially the parts previously mentioned in an earlier entry) at least 10 times. I feared the silence, but I also held onto a quiet belief that my words were warmly received. That it was Lucy's trip that kept her from responding. Even still, confessing, bluntly, that you think you have something beautiful with someone already in a relationship is an unnerving experience in itself.
Sea green - a color that has always managed to calm me, restored the calm today. Restored the churning waters to a steady, strong current.
Naturally, I had already started a letter last week that laid out how I hope my last letter wasn't too much. I discussed how I had no intention, whatsoever, to reek havoc on her present relationship. I said I didn't think I could live with the thought of ruining someone else's relationship - especially someone who I cared about. The letter went on to say how I wanted to continue our talking, our sharing of hopes and dreams for our lives, careers etc., that I still want her to visit me in New York - all of it that involves getting to know Lucy even better. To make our connection even stronger. I concluded the unsent letter with,
What I do know amidst all of this, is that as ridiculous as this may seem or sound, I cannot imagine my life without you - especially with this connection we share.
We texted for a short period of time today. I wasn't expecting much. However, in that brief time I learned that my letter wasn't too much, that none of my letters are ever too much. Ok. I'll take this, but I won't believe it until I read Lucy's next letter or when I hear her say those words to me. I won't believe it until Lucy looks into my eyes and tells me, that my words didn't cross the line. I won't believe it until we can both sit across from each other at a dinner table and say that is friendship for now - a friendship unlike any other, with incredibly beautiful potential.
The more I type those words, the more I realize, I am almost writing myself a script - for a silent mantra, a repetition, to keep me focused, to keep me realistic, to not let the whimsical, passionate side of me get caught up in the idea, in the dream. I need to continue to remain focused on my career and perhaps even more important to focus on is the fact Lucy is unattainable.
For now.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Connection and Comfort
I have to breathe aloud now and then to remind myself that I am still there. At least that's how it's been since last night when I read Lucy's dizzying, albeit wonderful e-mail.
Lucy. Oh Lucy. You have rendered me speechless and yet all I want to do is give you words. When I mustered up some words, they came from my heart - my every fiber of my being. I wrote cautiously, yet sincerely. I noticed how much my hands were trembling as my fingers ran across the keyboard.
Our e-mails aren't e-mails. They're letters, beautifully written letters - words that dance on the page, that strike a chord or chords within you. They trigger your mind, captivate your soul and overtake your body. Your letter from yesterday will forever be a part of me.
I had to reply in some form and I did. Now there's silence - a silence I knew would be coming due to a trip Lucy is going on for a week. But I thought more than once today, I wonder if she read my letter. I wonder what her reaction was to my words. I wished she would simply text me to let me know that she had read it, but would write more later. I could only be so lucky.
Lucy told me that she feels comfortable with me and loves the powerful connection we have. And we truly do have this. It's undeniable. I can feel it with every letter I get from her, I felt it the moment we met in June. Lucy managed to draw me and I am completely hooked. She went as far as to say,
'I won't lie that the strength of the connection I feel with you (coupled with how comfortable I feel around you) makes me think that being in a relationship with you would be a good thing in my life. And if I were free to pursue one with you, I would be. But I am also happy in the relationship I am already in. Though I know I could be happy with you too.'
I still get dizzy reading that. I want to continue building this beautiful friendship with Lucy - more than anything. And I let her know that. But I also let her know that I feel like we have something beautiful, that right now it might just be a single rose - though perhaps one day it could grow into a garden. That no matter what happens, she has filled my life in a most unexpectedly, breath taking, mind blowing, beautiful way.
Later in the letter, Lucy asked in a series of questions, what was the last moment that took my breath away. I wrote the following,
"I write this cautiously, but sincerely. I was in New Haven, CT and sitting with a group of people at a place called Bar. When this woman next to me (and also diagonally across from me - since it happened twice in one night) looked at me with her piercing blue eyes and titled her head at me with a slight smile. In that instant I felt my lungs tighten, the air escaping - my mind became like slosh, pure, sweet intoxication - it wasn't the beer. It was you."
And now I wait. It's almost unbearable - the thought of awaiting Lucy's response. I'm anxious and yet, I am calm. I want our friendship to grow and I want to continue to write these beautiful letters that allow me to express myself fully. Despite her being in a relationship with someone, I wholeheartedly believe that if things align like they might - that we may have a chance. Wow, could I sound anymore like Lloyd Christmas?
I'm not cashing in all my chips on Lucy, but I certainly wouldn't mind it if the time came. I'll have to distract myself in every way possible this next week and I will have to resist the temptation to reach out. Perhaps she might surprise me with a dinner visit in New York City in the coming weeks on a Friday.
My lungs are tightening. I am scared. My heart is open, my mind is racing and my hands are still trembling.
Lucy. Oh Lucy. You have rendered me speechless and yet all I want to do is give you words. When I mustered up some words, they came from my heart - my every fiber of my being. I wrote cautiously, yet sincerely. I noticed how much my hands were trembling as my fingers ran across the keyboard.
Our e-mails aren't e-mails. They're letters, beautifully written letters - words that dance on the page, that strike a chord or chords within you. They trigger your mind, captivate your soul and overtake your body. Your letter from yesterday will forever be a part of me.
I had to reply in some form and I did. Now there's silence - a silence I knew would be coming due to a trip Lucy is going on for a week. But I thought more than once today, I wonder if she read my letter. I wonder what her reaction was to my words. I wished she would simply text me to let me know that she had read it, but would write more later. I could only be so lucky.
Lucy told me that she feels comfortable with me and loves the powerful connection we have. And we truly do have this. It's undeniable. I can feel it with every letter I get from her, I felt it the moment we met in June. Lucy managed to draw me and I am completely hooked. She went as far as to say,
'I won't lie that the strength of the connection I feel with you (coupled with how comfortable I feel around you) makes me think that being in a relationship with you would be a good thing in my life. And if I were free to pursue one with you, I would be. But I am also happy in the relationship I am already in. Though I know I could be happy with you too.'
I still get dizzy reading that. I want to continue building this beautiful friendship with Lucy - more than anything. And I let her know that. But I also let her know that I feel like we have something beautiful, that right now it might just be a single rose - though perhaps one day it could grow into a garden. That no matter what happens, she has filled my life in a most unexpectedly, breath taking, mind blowing, beautiful way.
Later in the letter, Lucy asked in a series of questions, what was the last moment that took my breath away. I wrote the following,
"I write this cautiously, but sincerely. I was in New Haven, CT and sitting with a group of people at a place called Bar. When this woman next to me (and also diagonally across from me - since it happened twice in one night) looked at me with her piercing blue eyes and titled her head at me with a slight smile. In that instant I felt my lungs tighten, the air escaping - my mind became like slosh, pure, sweet intoxication - it wasn't the beer. It was you."
And now I wait. It's almost unbearable - the thought of awaiting Lucy's response. I'm anxious and yet, I am calm. I want our friendship to grow and I want to continue to write these beautiful letters that allow me to express myself fully. Despite her being in a relationship with someone, I wholeheartedly believe that if things align like they might - that we may have a chance. Wow, could I sound anymore like Lloyd Christmas?
I'm not cashing in all my chips on Lucy, but I certainly wouldn't mind it if the time came. I'll have to distract myself in every way possible this next week and I will have to resist the temptation to reach out. Perhaps she might surprise me with a dinner visit in New York City in the coming weeks on a Friday.
My lungs are tightening. I am scared. My heart is open, my mind is racing and my hands are still trembling.
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