My life in isolation in Scheissburg drove me over the edge, but I think it is fair to say that I had been pushed to the edge by the previous semester. Long story and confidential events shortened, I became Mark from the musical Rent. I watched my best buddy Roger get his heart torn apart by Mimi (or perhaps he would be Benny by now), and dealt with Maureen's craziness on the side. I watched my world and my friends sink into hell, and there was not a damn thing I could do about it, not even make a stupid movie. Mark is a really sucky character to be. He doesn't actually do anything. Just stands around and mopes while everyone deals with crap. He doesn't even affect anything. He doesn't end up with a lover. FML.
The play neglects to mention, however, just how much it hurts to be in that situation. To simultaneously be certain there is nothing you can do and still have the urge to fix everything. Torn apart, much?
In summary, my two resolutions for this year are: 1. Stop being afraid of things that won't kill me (did I mention that already?) and 2. Don't make things my problem that aren't. Because I came to the realization that I can't take care of anyone else if I can't take care of myself.
So now that we're in the second act, Maureen is having trouble with Joanne, and I can tell him what we all know he needs to do. I can assure him a thousand times over that yes, people are going to be upset with him, but we as his friends will never abandon him. But when it comes right down to it, this is something he can only do himself.
Last fall got to the point where I wanted to confront Mimi/Benny and have a very frank conversation with him about my take on what was going on. That did not happen until after it was essentially too late. Now, I'm choking off the impulse to do the same with Joanne. She barely knows me. And yet...I know she's about to go through hell. A part of me thinks I could say something, do something, to make it easier. So where do I draw the line? Is she my problem, or isn't she? Do I keep from getting involved, or am I already involved?
What is going to happen is that I won't say anything unless she approaches me. Then all bets are off. This is a very delicate situation, and any direct interference from me could very easily swing things the wrong way. So Mark, get thee behind thy camera where you belong. The best thing I can do now is call encouragement as the actors play their parts. For I am an actor too, and I have my own parts to play.
How did we get here? How the hell - ?
Pan left. Close on the steeple of the church...
Why are entire years strewn on the cutting room floor
Of memory?
When single frames from one magic night
Forever flicker in close up
Of the 3D Imax of my mind?...
Why am I the witness?
And when I capture it on film?
Will it mean that it's the end, and I'm alone?
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Friday, September 16, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Love
Everything there is to say about love has already been said. However, I have not said everything I have to say.
Love is that feeling you get when someone looks at you, merely looks at you and recognizes you, and you feel like you're going to throw up or burst into tears or simply explode, because how dare they give you the hope of an actual relationship. How dare you actually even think of one. You would be lucky enough to become mere passing acquaintances - any deeper of a relationship, and you would likely discover that this person is not nearly so wonderful as you imagine them to be, or worse, they would discover that you are nothing special after all.
Some people believe that we are all half-people searching for our other half so that we can become whole. I don't buy that. The place in my heart that hurts is not a lack, not a hole, not some kind of void that needs to be filled. It is a promise, no, less than a promise. It is a potential. A possibility. That even though I am a whole person now, I might still be able to join with another person and make my life even more wonderful than it is now. I don't need another person in order to live a happy and fulfilling life.
That doesn't mean it never hurts. Considering I equate love with nausea, it most definitely hurts. And I'm sick of this awkward dance of trying to spend more time with a person while not letting them know what effect their presence has on you. I'm apparently good at hiding my feelings. It makes me wonder: It seems like we're never on the receiving end. But what if we are and we just don't know? And how would you react if you found out someone you hardly knew felt nauseous around you?
Sometimes I wish that we were birds who had an inborn mating dance. It would be so much simpler instead of trying to comply to unspoken rules learned from the media and the behavior of acquaintances. For instance, it is not socially acceptable to ask someone the second time you meet them: "Are you gay? I think I might have a crush on you, but I'd like to be certain first. And if you want to be just friends, that's fine too, mostly I'd just like to know." Or: "You're really pretty. And I'd probably be killed in your country for saying that." Or: "I know you're gay and single, and I don't know much else about you, but let's go out and see what happens, because you look like you might be interesting."
Oh yes, I have extra risk when professing my love. If you are straight, you have a 90% the other person will at least consider going out with you. If you aren't, there's also a good chance that your object of affection will be squicked out at worst, accepting but emotionally unable to reciprocate at best. Plus you have to go through the extra step of finding out if a person might potentially not be straight, instead of simply being able to see a gender.
Essentially, this post boils down to: Why are there so many interesting straight girls? Why is it so hard to tell straight girls from gay ones? Why does society and the media try to tell you that a lover is a necessity in life? Why do I want to be in love? And why does being in love have to be so uncomfortable?
Right now I have the excuse that I'm only here temporarily to keep myself from investing my emotions too deeply, but once I get home it will be only my fear holding me back.
Love is that feeling you get when someone looks at you, merely looks at you and recognizes you, and you feel like you're going to throw up or burst into tears or simply explode, because how dare they give you the hope of an actual relationship. How dare you actually even think of one. You would be lucky enough to become mere passing acquaintances - any deeper of a relationship, and you would likely discover that this person is not nearly so wonderful as you imagine them to be, or worse, they would discover that you are nothing special after all.
Some people believe that we are all half-people searching for our other half so that we can become whole. I don't buy that. The place in my heart that hurts is not a lack, not a hole, not some kind of void that needs to be filled. It is a promise, no, less than a promise. It is a potential. A possibility. That even though I am a whole person now, I might still be able to join with another person and make my life even more wonderful than it is now. I don't need another person in order to live a happy and fulfilling life.
That doesn't mean it never hurts. Considering I equate love with nausea, it most definitely hurts. And I'm sick of this awkward dance of trying to spend more time with a person while not letting them know what effect their presence has on you. I'm apparently good at hiding my feelings. It makes me wonder: It seems like we're never on the receiving end. But what if we are and we just don't know? And how would you react if you found out someone you hardly knew felt nauseous around you?
Sometimes I wish that we were birds who had an inborn mating dance. It would be so much simpler instead of trying to comply to unspoken rules learned from the media and the behavior of acquaintances. For instance, it is not socially acceptable to ask someone the second time you meet them: "Are you gay? I think I might have a crush on you, but I'd like to be certain first. And if you want to be just friends, that's fine too, mostly I'd just like to know." Or: "You're really pretty. And I'd probably be killed in your country for saying that." Or: "I know you're gay and single, and I don't know much else about you, but let's go out and see what happens, because you look like you might be interesting."
Oh yes, I have extra risk when professing my love. If you are straight, you have a 90% the other person will at least consider going out with you. If you aren't, there's also a good chance that your object of affection will be squicked out at worst, accepting but emotionally unable to reciprocate at best. Plus you have to go through the extra step of finding out if a person might potentially not be straight, instead of simply being able to see a gender.
Essentially, this post boils down to: Why are there so many interesting straight girls? Why is it so hard to tell straight girls from gay ones? Why does society and the media try to tell you that a lover is a necessity in life? Why do I want to be in love? And why does being in love have to be so uncomfortable?
Right now I have the excuse that I'm only here temporarily to keep myself from investing my emotions too deeply, but once I get home it will be only my fear holding me back.
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