I was decided. I was done- done with it all. I was done with this state- for good this time too. I was going to just get up and go- find my own way, be my own person. No more waiting. No more wondering. I just needed to get out. Then a revelation. No. I can not leave. I need to stay another year. Why? For what? But I couldn’t deny it. I knew all to well the truth of it. I needed to stay. Another year. Six months. I’ll stay six months. Make it fast, make it clear, make it six months. Ok. Six months. I hate this state- I despise these people- I need something to keep me sane for the time. I decided to try my hand at school again- it will keep me busy- keep my mind off things. I took a loan. A loan I cannot repay. I don’t care really. If things work out, then I will care- but if they don’t, then I am gone. Gone for good. Loans don’t matter to me. Nothing matters to me- nothing but my responsibility to honor that which I know is right. I must stay. Finally, I feel a sense of purpose. I don’t know what it is- but it is coming. And I have a time to expect it. This I can endure. I said though, at the end of my patience, I will not seek it- make it clear. I was intending only to endure this time remaining- to hold steadfast to the commitments I had already made- and fall no further than I was. If I was to be more- then let me be more- but I will not go looking for it. Not anymore.
I kept to myself. I loaded on the classes. I was going to keep my head in my school and make an honest effort at it. Maybe this is what I have been waiting for- a reason. . . I am not a good student. It is too much for me. I can’t do it well and hold down a job. I needed to drop some courses. If I didn’t have to work I would be fine- I really would. 18 credits is not that hard- but my job wares me down too much. I wait a week or two to see how I am doing- but I can’t find the time to do my math homework. Dropped. That’s good. I can sleep another hour now. Good choice. A chance opportunity at another course just opened- same time as another, harder course; dropped. Another good choice. That lightens my load quite a bit. I need to drop one more. It’s a conflict. One, I know will be a demanding course- that doesn’t frighten me- I just don’t know if I have the time. And the other is. . . Well. . . I let myself get behind already. That makes that an easier decision. Dropped. That gives me time now. I should be ok with the hard one now- now I can just focus on school and work, and nothing else. Just when I think I’m all settled. . . Just when I think I have it all figured out. . . Something always comes up. I wanted to give up on that course- I wanted to quit. It didn’t seem to be going anywhere. But every time I got to that point of total disinterest, something struck me. It was intriguing again. And so I stayed. Now it’s to late to drop it. I might as well try. And once again, God put an angel in my life. This one is different. I see her different than any other before. At first, I admit, I only saw the physical. At first, all I wanted was that. But something deep inside me wouldn’t let me see her that way. Something deep inside me said “this one is special.” I couldn’t help myself but to see her with different eyes from then on. I was comfortable with her. She was a friend instantly. The first time we really spoke, was after class. We spent the rest of the day together. I instantly loved her. And I did not want to. She inspired me to be better. I wanted to be better because I knew, for me, someone like her was just impossible. She was too good for me- she is still. I needed to change, a lot. Damn love! I will not say it- I will not let it. . . I will fight it off! Damn love. But there is never enough time in a day. We cursed the sunset when we had to part. We cursed the distance that kept us apart. And in our hearts we secretly cursed our faith- our upbringing- our duties. We cursed the right and we cursed integrity. But mostly just the hours of the days, when there wasn’t enough time. Happiness is strange to me. I am happy. She makes me happy. And I made her happy too. She tells me she loves me. I hesitate. I don’t want to say it. Not ever. Not to anyone ever again. But I do, love her. More than life. I choke my pride and say it. I love you. We say it like it’s all we know. But those words are not enough. No words are enough, but ‘I love you’ is what we have so we say it. Over and over and over again we say it. Each time with new inflection, each time as if it has new meaning from the last. I love you. More than life. More than music. More than singing. More than writing. More than a summer breeze. More than the stars, more than the moon, more than there are grains sand on the beaches of all the shores in all the world, I love you. More than life, I love you. Nothing else matters.
I prayed for someone to come. Someone to love, and someone to love me. I prayed for someone who is good to me, someone who will encourage me in my goals and dreams. And he sent me you. I love you. And I know- I am meant for you- to save you.
I have been broken for so long. I have sought out every avenue I can on my own only to find I can go nowhere. I have been lost for so long- I do not hardly no where to turn to find my way back. I prayed for a purpose. I prayed for help. I prayed for a direction. He sent me you. I do not want to be lost anymore. Help me find my way back to the fold. Help me find strength. Let me borrow from you, your faith and courage, until I can find my own again. Let me borrow your strength, and in return I will promise you- I will not be lost again. I will make it. And all you sacrifice for me will never be in vain. I promise you I will stand again in honor and favor, and I will contend for you and your sacrifice for me. For you have saved me when no one else would. And you have shown me who I can be- who I was meant to be- and have taught me that I am not lost, that I can find my way back again, and that there is light in my eyes- no matter how dim it is now, it is there. And it is hope, courage, integrity, and love that I have forgotten ever existed. Forgive me the times that I have failed you. Forgive me all the times that I was not who I am meant to be. Forgive me my weaknesses. Forgive me for all the times when I am down an myself, the times when I don’t know I can make it. Forgive me my weak faith. Forgive me my weak mind. Forgive me for not treating you as you should be, like an angel. Forgive me all this. Forgive me for not being worthy of you. I am not worthy to hear your voice, or speak your name- let alone have kissed your lips. Forgive me for not being stronger sooner. But I am saved. I would not ask all this without fulfilling my promise to you- that I am found again. I know the path home again. And I would like to walk it with you. I love you, more than life. Forgive me.

. . .turn around.

The summer left me desolate. I had given up. I was prepared to throw this life away and disappear forever. I wanted this life to end, but I did not want to die. I just wanted a new life, one with a purpose. I needed a direction other than the one I was on. I tried desperately to create one on my own. Strike out! No! Not going to happen! I wrestled with myself. I knew I would just be back in the same mess as always, the same sad unproductive state that has been the sum of my years on this earth. I couldn’t leave. I could only pretend to be running away for short periods of time, only to just crawl back. What is the plan then? Why is there such a desire in me to run, to never settle; while all the time in conflict, I have an undesirable compulsion to stay the course; stay true to the right! Damn the right! . . . the higher choice, the responsibility. Who do I live for if not me? I’ve answered my own question. I want nothing for myself. that’s the truth of it. If I wanted anything for myself it would be far more peace than what is offered in this life. If I wanted to save myself, I would feel no compulsion to be responsible. Yet I do feel responsible. So much so that it aches my very soul that I can do little for it. What is you plan for me?

Summer of '08

(added dec 01, 2008 - after published)
And so I’ve come to it. She came to me at a time of isolation; a time when I had given up nearly completely. But not completely. That was just weeks before. I had given up, but it was short lived. What would be the point? And so I found myself back in the same state as I have always been. Alone. Without means to execute my goals, without means to do much of anything. Yet, though I was the same as before, I did have one new devotion to give me hope. I was determined to be more… respectable. And that’s when I found her. Again? I thought to myself. I want no one at this point. Just let me work and save so I can go to school and put this all behind me. This is what I wanted. This is what I needed. And yet there she was, boring her way into my essence. I could not escape her. And so with little cunning, and great desire, we introduced each other over a game.
I had a number now. Like something of a prescription, a prescription for the pain I have longed for so long to ease. But like any drug it runs a risk of dependence. I can see why people get lost in something like a drug. I had no addiction yet, but I wanted one. The risk of all the pain of it (love) wasn’t enough to out weigh the possible cure for my affliction. So I called it, that number; that prescription I had so longed to have filled, in hopes the it would fill a void in me. And for a time it did.
Time moves too quickly. Can not a man ever feel safe from its grasp? I beg it. I plead it. ‘Time please let me be. Forget about me and leave me in this moment forever. No one need know that you have missed one so insignificant as me. I could tell no one of it. They would only go on with you into the unknown, as I am left behind. Let it be so. It would only take an instant to satisfy for a lifetime. Or is it possible at all? Could I be unworthy of such a gift? Is it possible that another has been granted what I have asked? Were they better than I am? Or was I simply too late in asking?’

I was bored, at work and I was bored as usual. The pool hall was empty as usual, and there were few regulars to play with. I was burned out on the game for the day anyway. I stood behind the counter looking out the large front windows, waiting for something to come along. And then, like out of a dream, I saw her. She wore a green hooded sweatshirt. Green has always been my favorite color. It was an overcast day which only made the colors more vivid. She had dark hair and glasses. I watched as she rode by on a red bicycle, and said to myself "I want a girl like that- she’s perfect." As she passed by, all I could do was hope she might stop and come in. I say hope, but really I was dreaming. A girl like that had no business where I was to be found. I wished I was someone else; someone who she might encounter. I wished as she continued out of site. She continued across the intersection and disappeared behind the building adjacent to the pool hall. And just like that. . . She was gone. It was only a moment, but it seemed like more. I looked for a bit longer, but she was gone. I settled on the thought, then began to go about myself as I had before. But as I began to do so my breath was taken away from me as I saw her coming back around the corner. Again, my mind was taken from the dismal to the fantastic. Yet, again I watched her pass by, this time in a different direction, but still not in mine. I sighed, and thought to my self, “if I had a girl like that, how happy I would be.” I let her go again from my mind and continued on with my work. After a few moments I was stunned again. But this time she was here, standing in front of me. I couldn’t believe it. I, no doubt, in my disbelieving state stumbled over my words. She was stunning. For, I was stunned. She played alone. I thought to myself as I watched her (trying hard not to be too obvious about it), surely she is waiting for someone. But as the time passed I noticed something. She glanced at me, several times. Could it be possible? It seemed like she was waiting for me. A predicament. I find myself a coward for such things. I found excuses, I have plenty of them. But none were good enough. And just when I was wondering to myself how I might approach her, she approached me. Fate will prove, be it a lucky thing for me or not. I thought it a lucky thing for a while. Now. . .? Now I do not know. But I do know she made me happy for a while. And I needed to be happy. But happiness proved short lived. Soon treachery would tare its way into my life, turning all hope inside out. Despair set in. Should I tell the details? I wonder. Does it matter now what “friends” stabbed me in the back then? Does it matter what lies have been told about me? Does it matter, the opinions of fools and thieves; the opinions of liars and cheaters, rouges and misfits? Does it matter now, that a home was turned against me? That those who should have known, did not? That those who should have trusted believed the lies? Does it matter now, that a reputation of respect and understanding, kindness and truth, was repaid with lies and deceit; malicious behavior without regard, that defies understanding? Does any of that matter now? NO! But it does linger on doesn’t it? I had sought refuge in that place I had run to so many times in the past, only to have it overrun by thoughtlessness and inconsiderate behavior. It seemed all was taken from me. My home, my friends, my love. . .all had turned me out, save it were a few. But I found no comfort in them. The summer was the end of me. I no longer had anything to hold on to. Finally I was free. I just needed a destination. I decided to leave it all behind. I decided to give up on everything. I felt if I was to be lost and alone, that I would be lost to the world and go it alone. I took time. As much time as I could. But the feeling never left me. I was indeed done.

Ozz

I have moved so many times in my life that nothing feels like home. “Friends” come and “friends” go. People all look the same. Nothing special. Time spent with a degree of devotion creates those bonds, of which I have had few. There has been one. And I have felt at home there over the years. It was a place that was there for me when I had nothing. I did feel at home there. I felt I had a place to be for the first time in my life. And no one judged. It was just how it was and nobody questioned it. To this place I owe a great deal that can never be paid. I grew up there. So much growth depends on having a place to simply feel comfortable at the end of the day. It was a place of refuge. And I grew so much there.
I thought I had friends there too. If nothing else, I had a social life- a group to hang out with. But still they were only ever to be taken at face value. I never really got close to any of them. But still, there is a lot to be said for seeing the same group of people most every night for several years. If you are watching you will unavoidably be connected. But mostly for me, it was the simple fact that things are what they are, and nobody there questioned or judged it. I needed that. I was lost for many years. And that place helped me find who I was, due in large part to that attitude. But enough about this place for now. But it is important for one who wants to understand me, to understand how much I loved that place.

Fleeting Plumes of Smoke

In my chest there beats what resembles a heart. But it is not a heart; rather, many fragments of heart. And not one of these fragments matches another, for they are all from different sources. They come from tragedies of life, broken dreams, broken hearts, ect. The newest of these being the largest part of the collective till it dwindles like a dieing ember and shrinks to a comfortable size. The fire has been put out long ago, but these embers still glow; some more than others. Indeed some die out completely, becoming cold and black, while others glow warm for some time. And some never die. Some never shrink. But be ware of those that never shrink, while their glow dims ever darker than the rest. They grow cold and black, and can consume you. Few of these have I in my heart. And then there are those embers that never die… and never shrink in intensity. They only conform with the collective out of necessity. They dim their light only enough as what needs to be, yet they burn as hot as ever before. One can not rest with such a fire inside him. And yet, it can not be spoken of or disclosed to anyone. It remains only to burn the heart evermore. It burns with such passion that other fragments decay, while others are ignited again. A fiery torment begins in the soul. Passions once dormant and comfortably smothered live out wildly in sporadic and brief fleets of flame, only to smolder again uncomfortably now in the chest. The collective aches and burns in confusion because of these fits. Each one with a memory of its own. Wretched memories once lying calm and forgotten in the furthest reaches of the mind, now dredged up again like a body from the ground. With no soul they wander. They are ghosts of the past. And like smoke they must vanish again, floating again to those places we hide our feelings. They leave only a reminder of themselves freshly imprinted on our minds. . . fleeting plumes of smoke. . . eventually…every love… fleeting plumes of smoke. May the pieces of what I call my heart find peace and still the fires, so I can rest.

Full Circle

I need a break. There is one more show I want to try for. But Before I do, I need to rest. So many reasons why. And so I stay home. Almost two weeks pass. What do people do? I was climbing walls. I missed it.
I didn’t know what to do with myself. This has been my life for nearly eight months. I needed it. And so I went back. I was lost without that theater. It was just about the only thing I liked in life. I heard that many of the cast had dropped out of the production. I was in. Just for fun. Something to do. I am glad I did.
This show was the best experience of them all. Everyone was fantastic. Fun. And friends. Everyone was friends. I was tired but happy. . . ish.
It’s true I wasn’t completely happy. But as much as could be expected I think. I had a place in the theater it’s true. But outside those performances I had no place. I had no other purpose. Outside those walls of make-believe, those comfortable imaginary lines drawn to keep out the viewer; I was indeed lost when they came down with the curtain. Yet something kept me distant from them. To a point, I kept to myself. But I did find there a few friends. True friends I believe.
But in my life, happy times are few and very far between. While one show is in performances another is in rehearsals. The one I have been waiting for. The one to prove I have overcome. My initial goals were being realized. My fears were at bay. My mind and body are weak. Was I ready? Not in the least. But nonetheless, the opportunity has come. This will be my last for a long while.
I had come full circle it seems. The very show I started with I was now ending with. Almost a year earlier I thought I could do better. Now we shall see. I don’t know if I can. I don’t know that I did. It’s not for me to say. I will make no effort to out do. I would no longer assume I could. I just need to do it.
My cast is wonderful. They are as strong as before, with their own strengths- and their own weakness’, me being one of them I feel.
My co-star is the sister of the one I have adored for so long, and a friend. It’s easy to pretend. But where one friendship lives another- it seems, must die. Reasons are many. Few. It made sense at the time. But never really. Nothing made complete sense anymore. Why we make the choices we do will remain unspoken. People can’t be expected to be so honest without some sort of security.
My choices now are instinctive and goal oriented. Nothing else matters to me. Nothing else can. I cannot let them. The only things and people who exist to me now are those created on that stage. This cast is off limits. I will make no efforts here. I know only a few of them to start with, and when it is all over we will simply part. Good show, well done, goodbye. No more friends. I can bare no more friendships. At the end of this one I disappear. Either in victory or in defeat, it does not matter.
My faith is in shambles, my mind is scattered in pieces, and my heart is rent in two. I am ill. From the time I was cast to the end of the run I was ill. And not just mentally, but truly physically ill. I grew weaker with every day. No rest between shows. I couldn’t rest. I hated this character. He is a coward. He is naive. Foolish. He has but one redeeming quality. But it’s not enough. And in the end all is victorious, innocence prevails. Love endures, and foolishness is rewarded by edification. All things perfect. A wasted effort of the mind. Yet I was consumed by it all. It’s good natured humor stuck me like a thorn in my side. And it’s pointlessness was like a weight on my shoulders I did not know how to bare. It all made me ill. I resented most all of it. And what is worse, my voice has betrayed me. My illness has taken it’s greatest ransom. My confidence only flies so high as my voice can take it. And this damned illness has me grounded. What is it then? Stress. So petty a thing. My life has been defined by it. Why should it consume me now? Nothing special here. Nothing at all. Nothing.
Damn it then. I’ll go on. I had a system of pills. They helped in the mean time. But really nothing made me so numb as I needed to be. Not a thing could ease the pain. Not but one. Curtain. One way or another, I was going out there. And I was going to sing. I’ll choke down the blood if I have to. But I won’t miss a note. (except that one) My throat was tight. It hurt to even speak. In fact, I did very little speaking at all off stage. My teeth cringed in pain a good share of the time. If I spoke I spoke through them. But that was just me. Fredrick, was un-inhibited. The fool.
I can’t speak to the success of my last effort. It served my purpose. But what of the audience? I can only hope.

There is a darkness in me. It has been there since I was about eleven years old. My faith has kept it at bay. For a time I lost my faith. I forgot who I was. The darkness consumed me then. I let it. I welcomed it. Was I insane? What was reality? I couldn't tell you. I did not know. I knew only to trust my heart. But my heart betrayed me. It lead me to one who would test my faith. One who would make me doubt it. One who would have me believe it was all delusion. I was so lost. I could not balance confusion and love and faith all at once. How could I? My heart said one thing, and my faith said another. I was fooled. The adversary has found a new tool against me. Love. So easily, he deceived me. So easily. I was lost. I lost all faith. I had only what I knew and what I felt. Usually that is enough to keep one on the right side of things. But I needed to trust others. I needed to believe what others told me. To great the risk of losing all, if I get caught up in my own mind again. I needed to trust. And so I did. And so I let that one I had loved so long bleed me. I let my faith run out. And I trusted the lies. My faith is dead. I cannot tell the difference. But I needed it to be so. I needed to be lost so I could make a choice. I have been waiting for the choice to make me, but it will not come. And so I believed a lie. Believing it was of God. For a time, my faith is restored. I pray. I weep. I repent. Almost. But still my heart is divided. I always choose wrong. I have but two options, and I choose the facade. I choose to be fooled.

Fallen

I found an angel it's true. But who was I to see angels? I was undeserving. And I proved it. I wasn't looking for faith. I wasn't looking for God. I was looking the other way. I was looking to be brought down to destruction. I was looking to vent. Nothing more. I gave up on God. For only a short time, I gave up on God. I wanted the darkness to overcome me. I wanted a purpose to be fulfilled. I wanted to destroy and be destroyed. And I destroyed. Myself. My faith. And in the midst of all this there was an angel in my life. Always truth. Always honest. Always faithful. She crept into my life so easily. I let her. She was a friend. We were always honest from the start. She knew my plight, and counseled me. She was indeed a friend. But I could be a friend to no one. I didn't know how. I was vulnerable. I needed someone. But I was overwhelmed by a darkness in my life that I let get out of control. I couldn't see it. I didn't want to see it. I knew it was near. I just needed something worth while to fight for. Then I could overcome it. The I could fight it off. I needed someone to be that for me. I was desperate. And so, I clinged to her. We were unique. Honest and pure. I didn't know it then, but I loved her more than any other. But I was too selfish to let myself see it. I didn't let it be love. I didn't think it was possible. It was too soon for love. I told myself it was too soon, so it must not be. How can it be? When I was alone my heart was divided in two. But when I was with her it was whole. She was the only one to make it so. But I didn't trust it. I didn't know how. And soon that darkness overtook me. I surprised myself. I had never been so heartless. I always knew it was in me to be so, but I never let it be. She saw it in my eyes. She knew there was a sadness there, a darkness. I turned my head away. She got to me. She saw right through me. The façade I was creating was invisible to her. She knew me. I wouldn’t dare say that of anyone else. But she knew me. And with all the darkness, all the sadness out in front; with everything honest and open, she still cared. I was undeserving. A better heart I will never find. Yet for all that was honest and pure, for all the love, I made it something else. I made it carnal. I made it ugly. And I destroyed it. The most beautiful thing I have ever known, I destroyed it. I was bitter and angry. At God, at myself, at every love I had ever known. Even love itself. I hated it. I hated myself. I wanted to be consumed by anything but love. And so I brought down an angel from heaven. I took advantage of her trust. I took advantage of her love. And worst of all, I took advantage of her weakness. It wasn’t a conscious effort on my part. It didn’t need to be. All I had to do was not care. All I had to do was not consider my actions. Just do. I ignored that voice that told me not to do it. I know that voice. I know that spirit. It was the very thing I was rejecting. It was the thing at which my anger was directed. I will never forgive myself for that day. I can never make it better. I can never let it happen again. For a time I forgot myself. What it took for me to remember was the highest cost. I lost something of myself in those actions that I can never recover. And I took something from another that I can never repay. I allowed myself to become my enemy then. I allowed myself to become that darkness which I have always fought so hard against. I became the very thing I despise most in this world. And the cost of my time of defiance was far too great. I would give anything to go back and do it better. I would give anything. It was not me. It is a scar on my life that I will never let heal. I must never lose the reminder. I would take myself from this earth if it would begin to express my sorrow for the pain I have caused. But that would only make it worse. And so I stayed. But I have never been so tempted.

Chapter 3

I did love her. I wasn’t supposed to, but I did. Call backs were posted. Her name was there. I didn’t know what to do. I made my commitment already. I wasn’t about to drop out. Besides, this was the show I was waiting for. This was a song, a few lines. It was perfect. It was the step I needed at the time I needed it. I couldn’t drop out. But I couldn’t go through that again. Not again. I needed to make a mends. I needed to forget my pride. I needed to try to be a friend. She didn’t want to be awkward either. If I had asked her she would’ve dropped out of the show, for my comfort’s sake. I couldn’t ask that. That’s friendship. True friendship. I needed to at least try to be as good a friend to her as she was willing to be for me. So I make a mends. In my heart. Lose my pride. Do my damnedest to let it go.
It took a few days. But I did it. I swallowed my pride. I let my heart forgive. I let my ideas of what should’ve been go. I want to be friends I said. She does too. J All is good. All is great. She doesn’t know I love her. She hasn’t known that. I wonder if she should. But I’ll wait. No need to bring that up.
Finally at peace. This show is all I wanted it to be. I love the cast. I love it all. And all is great. For the first time since Pirates, I can simply focus on my nerves and original goals. I feel free.
Time once again passes by too quickly. And I once again try to make things evolve sooner than what is natural. I can’t help it. It’s just the way I am. The world doesn’t operate on the same time table as me. We are always out of sync it seems.
We are so close now. Too close. Way too close. I have to tell her. But I can’t. She inspires me. For the first time in years I allow art to flow. I can write music again. I want to write music again. I want to draw. I want to paint. I can’t touch my guitar without playing her song. I feels sad. I don’t know why. This will not do. So paint. I paint. It’s free. I can’t contain it. This is my expression to her of how I feel. A visual expression. A pure un-adulterated expression of emotion without the bastardized word attached. It seems safe to me. A way to say something without having to say it. I really did love her. I can’t explain why. So many reasons. Far more depth than most people allow themselves. Fun, kind, thoughtful. I couldn’t say much when I gave it to her. I didn’t know what to say. I think I might have told her it was how I felt. I think she knew. Somewhere inside, I think she knew. It seemed good. We got closer. Closer than before. Again, too close.
It became too much. I couldn’t be the same friend to her that she could be to me. It wasn’t in me. I didn’t know how. It all seemed right. It all seemed good. I wanted another shot. I figured things where different from before. We were so much more than in the past. I asked again. Or, I thought I did. I am careful. I wanted to be clear. I don’t know anymore. Date? I’m not sure if I said the word anymore. At the time I was sure I did. But it doesn’t matter now. I set myself up for it either way. Even so, the circumstances alone should have implied it. Never mind that. Kind, considerate? It seems so. Except when it came to me. Is that cold to say? Maybe. It seemed so at the time. But I really just don’t know anymore. I . . . well I wasn’t really in sync with the world at all it seems. Not only was I in a different timeline, I seemed to be in a different line altogether sometimes. I can’t remember. But I know myself. I know what I do. A misunderstanding at least. On both our parts. I guess I didn’t make myself clear. I guess she didn’t make herself clear. I thought it was sure to happen, just later- I left myself open in anticipation of it. She must have meant maybe, later if at all. But there was a window of time. Clearly. So I wait. And wait. Hours pass. And more. Maybe not so clear a window after all. I am broken.
She calls me. What reason should I hear? None. I should hear no reason. No excuse. They don’t matter. They only hurt. Any words fire like arrow stating the plain to see. Even in the back of her mind, the reasons do not matter, it is not me. Crushed. Vulnerable. I can only ask. Would we still be friends if I love you? Silence.
Such a thing to confess in a text. Are you alright? No. I’m sorry. It doesn’t matter. I thought you said. . . . I thought you meant. . . . I am so sorry. Would we still be friends if I where in love with you? Silence. I thought we were past all that. No. I thought I could do this but I can’t. More silence. And more.
How could she not have known? Did I really set myself up so blindly? It doesn’t matter. It hurts, but it doesn’t matter. Here we go again.
Yes. It will be weird. I already went through my weird phase. I think I am over it. Won’t it be hard for you?
Yes. But I value our friendship too much to not try.
So I tried. We stayed close. With boundaries. At first. Then less. Then more. And at times we both stood on that line, carefully balanced, tilting to each side but never stepping across. I need to fall. One way or the other, I need to fall. I can’t do this. I need to fall away. I need to be hurt. I can’t love you. I need to fall elsewhere. For our friendship. For my sanity.
And so I seek another. Timid. Fearless. Hiding. I found comfort in an angel.

I cannot do justice here by telling this story. She likes me, I think. No one. A person of interest, but I can ask her out. We never had this conversation. It's done then. I was flying. Scared out of my mind, but empowered all the same. Flying.
I should skip this part. I set out to overcome my fears. I wanted to perform as a musician someday. That was the purpose. I never set out to fall in love. That was never factored in. And my secondary agenda, to find a healthy balance from which to reference my life, was suddenly in jeopardy. People do silly things when they involve their hearts. Who is to say what is crazy, what is normal? Was I even in love with her? (huh? I say was.) How can one tell? Who is to say what is love and what is not? If I am out of sync with reality then where do I stand on such complicated ground? Can I even tell this story with any degree of certainty? No. I can not. But I can tell it the way I know it. And so I will tell what I know.
I got too close too soon. I always do. I was falling in love and she just wanted to heal. Her heart was wounded. I will never know why or how. I pushed her away by trying to be close. She built a wall, but not around her heart. She built a wall around mine. Defenses were in place already, and yet she built a wall. This was far worse than if I had made myself a fool. I would have rather her turn me out flat and quickly, rather than to know. . . I would have rather let it go. But no, I am stubborn. She is stuborn. Scared. Now I am wounded. This show was real. From the stage to the dressing room, I carried the same pain. This was one charicter who had me pegged, and I could not escape him. Our friendship withered away. This one was important to me. Far more than any other. Even though it was never part of the plan.
Another show. Thank God that is over. Time to get back on course. My fear of performing is all but gone. My previous role was a learning one. I grew from it a great deal. And with my growth my fears subsided. Now it was time to make more friends. Different friends. This time, and from now on, there are limits. Let them close but not too close. It's better for everyone that way. I wasn't going through another show like the one previous. It's all fun and games from now on. And it was. A Christmas Carrol. I felt as if I was Scrooge. But I couldn't be him, even if I wanted to. I was cheerfull and gay. That was my part. Smiling hurts my face, but I do it. It feels unnatual, but I do it. But smiling alone isn't enough. My mood needs to change. Something is needed to take my heart off things unpleasant. And so I let one in. Another friend. But not too close, she doesn't want to be that close anyway so it works out fine. For the time being My heart is content. That show seemed to last forever. It ended far too soon.
Along the way I have made lasting friendships. Not the kind of friends that I call up for a party every weekend (some of them could be), but really I am not that kind of person, but friends that will always have a kind word and a story to tell when I see them. I think for most people that's all they require of a friend. Perhaps I require too much. But then again, there is but one real requrement I insist on. To me a friend is honest. Degrees of course apply. I wouldn't expect explicite trust in telling a friend anything, not right away, maybe never. But there are lines to be drawn. And thus lines to be crossed. For my purposes it was necissary. Because of the nature of my interest in having "friends" at all I needed to be able to trust my friends. But i think it is an obvious assumption where honesty applys in relation to the closeness of a friend. But then again. . . maybe it's only obvious to me.
My brother decided to go on to other things shortly after our first show together. But I have not gone it alone. From the first show even to my last, I have had a constant companion. He was at times like a brother. We joked about it often in fact, that we shound have been brothers. In every show together learning as we go and taking on our fears we found a common bond in the theater. Yet again, things seemed to be passing by too fast. Many of us planned to come back again, and audition in the spring. All of those friends would be together again, with new faces for our funnest show yet. But for now it was time for a break. Just a few weeks is all. Then the magic of theater would start again. It had been a bumby road for me so far, but worth every bounce. I would be back for sure. I couldn't wait.
She wouldn't be back for this one. Bitter-sweet.

This has been one of the hardest years of my life. Just over a year ago today I auditioned for the first time for a theatrical production. My brother said to me, "..you know you want to." He was right. I did want to. I wanted a chance to sing. I wanted a chance to be on that stage and have all eyes on me. I wanted to be a star. But most of all, I wanted to take on something that scared me more than anything else. I wanted to take that fear that thwarted my every effort as a child to be who I knew I was. I wanted to prove that I can rise above what others saw of me. I was ready. I was ready to be afraid so I would never be afraid again.
So I went. I rehearsed briefly. I knew I could sing, and better than most anyone else. That wasn't my concern. My brother was frantic. Nervous. I was nervous. I was scared. My blood ran cold. I used every fiber of my being just to stay in the moment and not disappear like I have done so many times in the past. I was determined to see this moment pass me. Determined to live it, not just let it pass, but live it through to its end no matter how miserable it may turn out. No matter what it was going to happen. For me, for my brother; he couldn't have done it without me; I don't think. I couldn't have done it without him. I wouldn't have. So I sang. He sang. And well. .. both of us- well. It was triumphant. We were cast.
Ensemble. Looking back, it was right. We couldn't carry more than the background of a community theater production, not then. We were satisfied with it. The cast was strong, all but the lead. I could sing it better. But, then again. . . I might have failed then. I wasn't ready. Not even ready to try. Back stage is were the fun is anyway. Nothing but egos when those lights come up. But behind the curtain, in the black light- the green rooms- that's what made it worth it. That's where I met them all. My experiment on my self has begun.
I wanted to take on a fear. I was going to beat it once and for all. But the theater offered me another opportunity as well. I didn't need to be alone anymore. These people were truly special. We were like a family. I had a chance here. A chance to make friendships; friendships that would last. This was a test indeed of myself. I had it all figured out to a point. I would keep auditioning, keep taking roles, no matter what the part, until I could get a leading part. I didn't need to be the star. That wasn't what it was about. I just wanted so sing and be heard. If I could just get a song- a line here and there, and sell it; that was the goal. That would defeat the fear. And in the mean time, with such talented people around me, my goal was now two fold. I could overcome my anxiety of performing as well as my anxieties of. . . well... people.
I was always afraid as a child. I don't know where it came from. I was just always afraid of people. A stranger would look me in the eye and it filled me with fear. So much so that I often hid away and cried. I learned young to avoid these situations, by avoiding their vectors, such as people. I was always alone given the chance. I didn't prefer it. But it was comfortable and I wasn't afraid. And so, no one got in. My family became strangers to me. I lived an isolated life.
I soon learned something about people. Those eyes. They tell all. Maybe that's why I was afraid. Maybe I felt they were seeing my soul, snooping through my secrets (as if I had any as a child). Much like the way I see into a persons heart when I look them in the eyes. I learned this young. And I learned to be accurate. I could read people at an instant. But seeing people so plainly only tends to drive one further inside themselves. Such is my plight. I know too well my own heart. It is a disadvantage at times to see things so clearly. Especially for one so alone. For who is to say that what was so clear to me was accurate? Was I distorted? I did not know. But here in this last year I have found the answer. Yes, the simple act of friendship had eluded me for too long. This could give me balance. This could prove me, one way or another. My mind is a jamble. It always has been. I have known since I was eleven that there was something inside of me that distorted my views on reality. I kept them in check, or so I thought. Yet, I was never wrong. Never. Could I possibly know myself so surely as I had thought I did? This will be the test. I must reference my life against other's so to find a balance. What better way to do so than to create friendships? There is none.
The first show I did was pirates. I have pirates in my bloodline. It's of no help. I was lost on the stage. Awkward. My voice never failed me though. Not then it didn't. But my limbs, my body betrayed me. Stiff as a bored. I forced it to moved where I wanted it to, and when. It fumbled along timidly. But it got there. And I got there. And I stayed there. I was not afraid. Timid yes, but afraid? No.
Friends came easily. Everyone was eager to socialize. Is that normal I wondered? I was content to sit alone in a crowded room just listening to the chatter of everyone else. While others seem unsatisfied until they had exhausted every bit of small talk know to man. Then they moved on to another person or found something of interest in the small talk and a conversation ensued. And some just went strait into conversation from the other side of the room, letting others do the small talk for them. And this I noticed in girls in particular, sometimes there would be no small talk at all. One would just approach another and begin talking. I was lost again. I didn't know how they did it. I knew no small talk of my own, or is it all borrowed? Surely someone had something original to say to start a conversation. But in any case, I hadn't heard it anyway. So I was at a loss. I wasn't anti-social, but I certainly wasn't part of the scene back stage. Hmm... Maybe it takes more time that I had thought. I needed to learn this behavior. It's odd. It's meaningless. But it is necessary.
Slowly. It went slowly when it came to making friends. I think because my motivation was so different from everyone else. It seemed that others just took friendship for granted, and so casually made more friends quicker than some like me. While others seems motivated by primal urges and thus happened into friendships. I could not do so. I was to serious to take friends for granted, and too shy to even approach someone I didn't know as a romantic interest. I was stuck. But what's more, I had a time limit. This show wasn't going to last forever. I may never see some of these people again. The thought sent me in urgency. And even more so when I was discovering that I did have a crush on one of my fellow cast mates. This was problematic. She was beautiful. She was smart, funny, fun to be around. And what's more, she seemed normal. At least what I precieved to be normal. She had it all figured out. She had confidence and strength. Not at all like anyone I had been attracted to in the past. I almost let it be. I almost said nothing. It would have been an easy thing to do since I could think of no words to express myself. I could have walked away then. But that wasn't part of the plan. She was different that was sure. But in what way? I didn't know. It didn't matter. I wanted to ask her out.
I had a new problem. We were in the final week of the show and I still hadn't the words.
Closing night. Many of us had auditioned for another show and were cast. This gave me more time. But I had no need. The decision was made. Yet something has escaped me. What if. .. could I make myself a fool and endure another show in embarrassment? Surely not. I need to find out. . .is she even single? And if by some miracle she is single what makes me think she would even think of me? Or is there another interest? Maybe she doesn't even like me. Oh dear. This was a pickle. But by grace an answer struck me. Sisters are a Godsend. I'll ask her sister. The after party provides a last second opportunity. I wait for the last second. I ask.