Who could be happier than me?  I get to marry the girl I truly love. Once again, I RULE!!!

I went to Guy’s house the other night. There was an outdoor concert in his backyard, which was sponsored by a group which puts on intimate concert events around the world. The music was painful to listen to. I had been to one prior, which was good, but this one was like a couple 60’s experimental bands. Embarrassing stuff. Anyway, there were about 30-40 people, lots of couples on dates. It’s a cool thing to do in LA, when the music doesn’t suck. And I was watching some of the guys holding their girls, and the girls rubbing their guys’ arms or necks…  I became a little overwhelmed with wanted that intimacy at that moment, and knowing that until you’re with me, or heaven forbid aren’t, I can’t have that. I miss it. I miss holding hands. I miss caressing. I miss feeling someone else.  

P. S. 50 days. 

I cooked a big pasta dinner and retired to the sofa to watch a film. I put on Beasts Of The Southern Wild. I watched and marveled at its magic.  I remember when I first saw it in the theater and gazed starry-eyed at the miracle on screen. How does someone conceptualize such a thing?  I watched it again tonight, equally incredulant, wonder on my face and tears on my cheeks.  It may be the most beautiful piece of filmmaking I have ever seen (twice).  

How do/did we wind-up where we are: ME alone in a hotel lobby writing and watching vacationers going about their lives, seemingly enjoying their holidays while yelling at their kids, and YOU once again living with a man who doesn’t satisfy your heart and going through the motions of the presumed social status quo.  We each seek out our refuge from whatever damage that exists deep down in such different ways: YOU more apt to be dissatisfied rather than alone, and ME more apt to be alone rather than dissatisfied.  Are we the opposites we seek, ying and yang?  It’s certain though that we’re both a bit fucked up in our own ways, but not seemingly beyond repair.  I am stocking my tool box with understanding, communication and patience.  Understand me and I will seek to understand you beyond that which I think I already know.  Talk to me about how you feel and why and I will tell you that which echos inside me, as best as I can understand it (we both need to work on this).  And mostly be patient with me and through our understanding and communication I will be patient with you, even during your occasional I Love Lucy moments, which though possibly frustrating at the time, are cherished memories which bring me cheshire smiles with each thought.  We are damaged people, but we are not beyond repair.

Honey, I feel the gap widening, though I am not drifting from loving you.  I love you all the same and still hope you make it to me. 

A friend died yesterday. I’m in shock a bit. We drove our old cars up to Malibu for brunch just two weekends ago, right before Jazzfest.  I called his cell and his wife answered.  It went from there as you would imagine. She cried telling me the story. Her quivering voice and crying in echoing. I left work early because I couldn’t stay focused on anything. He was just such a great guy, truly, and I barely got to know him. He was a budding friend, and I know he felt the same because he told me. I met him on the movie I did here last summer and we struck up a friendship, which is rare for me. We went motorcycle riding a few times. I’m so glad I spent that day with him a couple weeks ago and got to know him even more. He had a light or aura. He was nice to people, a good husband, smart, fun, and though I didn’t know him nearly long enough, he managed to make it to the title of friend, and that’s a small circle. I wish you were here to hug away the sadness. 

I made the mistake of trying to keep up with Ron last night, and I’m paying the price and couldn’t make it to the fest today.  Yesterday, Paul Simon was playing, the crowd was singing and swaying, and my arms remembered holding you close. A sadness. I lasted a couple more songs then just couldn’t take it and had to leave. My arms know they belong around you as much as your body knows it belongs inside them. 

Erin,

I’m sorry you read that post and didn’t hear it come out better from my mouth. It had a bite to it, which is why I deleted it. I did feel that way though (and still to an extent) so I wrote down my feelings to communicate with you in the only medium I reliably have. You know that I love you and just want to talk to you as often as I can. I hope you understand that. 

FYI, I know you have your concerns, and maybe moreso after that last cryptic post, but so that you know there is no other shoe. 

I will tell you in person if I see you.