If I’m being honest I’m lonely. Tonight was sort of special to me and I was thinking as I was in line at the liquor store buying a celebratory bottle of wine that it would have been really cool to talk about tonight with someone. Not a random date, not a friend, but someone I actually cared about and that cared about me.
The thing is, the thing that I’d only ever admit on this blog is that I’m just tired of the randomness. I need more, I need more than “I may be available,” or a text or call here or there. I deserve more than that. I know a lot of it is my pride but that’s not the only reason.
I’ve come to the conclusion that I women just don’t think I’m good enough. They think I have good traits and good mannerisms but there’s a disconnect about me that doesn’t allow them to fall as hard as they should.
Tonight I almost came to tears watching those actors on that stage. Watching them speak and cry and put the emotions to my words and thoughts. It was a sort of happiness, a sort of calm, a sort of feeling good about myself I haven’t felt in a long time. When you put the sort of expectations on yourself I put on me, it has a way of weighing you down, of stressing you out to the point that you drink and take a ambien almost every night just to sleep. I haven’t put out a book this year, no short stories and I think about that a lot. But tonight made up for that, tonight was worth sharing with someone special and since I don’t have that person, I’m sharing those thoughts with you.
Do you know what it’s like to be in love with someone that you know will never feel the same way? To have to smile and talk and pretend it’s all good just to come home and write till your hands cramp and your eyes are burning so you won’t think about them? I’ve known that pain before in my life, I’ve seen the face of a woman that you know you’ll never kiss, never caress. A woman that is everything you asked God for but God looked at you and said, “She’s not for you.” How do you share a perfect moment with a woman like that? How do you hug her and be happy for her knowing you’ll never be more than a talented writer and good friend?
You know how…
You just have faith that one day you’ll meet someone who cares about these moments that matter to you, just as much as you do. You’ll pray that you meet someone that you don’t have to downplay shit for, that you don’t have to pretend it’s not that serious.
The women sitting next to me in the theatre tonight, her boyfriend was a director in one of the other plays. She was the only person that knew I’d written the play, when it was over she grabbed my hand and told me it was really good. She was crying. She was Indian or maybe Israeli or something and in that moment I felt like I was going to be someone in life. In that moment I didn’t think about the fact that I was going home to drink this bottle of wine alone or that I think about becoming my father every day. I just felt proud of myself and wanted nothing more than to call someone and talk about it. Looking at my phone I realized there was no one so I’m doing what I do best. Writing about it.