you can’t take it back.
in Thoughts and Feelings
as Canada, color of your eyes, consolation prize, dandelions, drew, feigned sleep, Jason, Josh, morning, romance sex, Secret, self, tiny cracks, wake, way
There are some things you just can’t keep secret.
Like the color of your eyes.
But a secret.
It’s powerful.
It’s the only key to a lock that’s otherwise fast.
And you can’t take it back.
So what do you do when you remember all the secrets that he knows? All the tiny cracks that, slowly, you allowed to crumble the wall known as Boundaries that generally exists between two people. Until you are known, fully known, and you’re mesmerized by it. Caught up in the closeness of it all; the way that he knows just how to wake you up in the morning perfectly. So perfectly, in fact, that you often feigned sleep when you heard him come home from work, just so that he would wake you up again.
But you can’t take it back.
You can’t take back the way that you were a garden enclosed. That when you’d let him in, there were no signs of breaking and entering; but by the time he left, the flowers had stopped blooming and the dandelions that had grown up in droves were a poor consolation prize.
But at least they were yellow, I guess.
And you try to make yourself feel better by saying that maybe he didn’t really know you because how could he walk away so resolutely after knowing you so intimately? But he did. He knew you because that’s all you knew to do: Let him in.
Let him invade your self until all of the facets of love–romance, sex, laughter, mystery, rolling out of bed in the morning with nothing but your honest self to present to each other–they were all synonymous with his name.
And you didn’t know how dangerous that could be.
And you’re grateful that life is a secret that continues to unfold and you feel a little safer each day because you’re not giving them away so easily anymore. And you’re certainly not giving them away to him.
But that is still a little surprising, I guess.
And still comes across in the details.
I guess it was during the final weeks of tour when I started getting into texting with multiple letttttttters for emphasis. Or when I was excited I’d do this!!!!!!!!! Or when I was confused, I’d be like????????? Cause sometimes one is just never enough.
And I’d let people know that I misssssss them!!!!!! And I’d ask them if they were readddddddddy tooooo rummmmmble??????? Well, really only to my brother, Jason. And when it was appropriate, of course.
But I guess Drew missed all that. I couldn’t text with my phone in Canada, but my brother Josh showed me how to do it through my gmail. So I excitedly sent out texts to my brothers, sister, mom, and Drew–but well, everyone but one responded. And no, it wasn’t my brothers, it wasn’t my mom, and it wasn’t my sister who didn’t respond. And the thing about the gmail texts is that, once you send three texts without a response, they won’t let you send any more. I guess they figure that whoever you’re sending them to just isn’t interested.
And yes, the irony isn’t lost on me.
And then once I got back…Well, we haven’t texted much other than business.
But I still let a few multiple question marks slip in.
Which is what prompted Drew to ask me, Why all the ???
And then I realized, it’s the beginning of him not knowing me so well anymore. The beginning of me not quite letting my personality be seen so clearly by him.
Cause you know, I am totally summed up in lots of !!!!!! and ????? and the way that I use tooooooo many letters in succession sometimes.
That’s a definite glimpse into my soul.
But in all seriousness, it struck me when he had to ask me about the way that I text. He never used to have to ask before; now he does.
That says something.
what i learned from a broken rib
in Uncategorized
as fun shopping, life, pain, painful time, plaid tie, reactionary, Secret, sense, something, texas, texas roadhouse, time
Today was a tough one.
But then a seventeen year old boy told me that my hair was awesome and that made it better.
Okay. So not really better per se, but it did make me smile and that’s something.
And now it’s no secret that things have been hard for me lately. But what might be a secret is that I’m going through the most emotionally painful time I’ve ever experienced. But now you know, so it’s no longer a secret.
And one of the weirdest parts of this–not worst, mind you, but weirdest–is that I still go through life and respond to it accordingly. I still smile when somebody says something nice to me. I laugh when my parents’ dogs are bounding through the snow like they forget they are dogs and think they are gazelles for a second or two. I get hungry and even feel the smallest bits of anticipation when I know the rolls from Texas Roadhouse are in my near future. I tell people I am okay because nobody in passing has the time to listen to the long and detailed story of how I am really doing; people have jobs, you know. They can’t just quit in order to listen to an answer given a little too honestly. I get happy when I see my nieces’ burgeoning fashion sense catch my eye: a pink sparkly glove here, a plaid tie or a fedora there–all of it indicating some fun shopping trips heading our way.
But then there’s this underlying part of me that catches at the beauty or innocence or freedom or whatever it is that is making me smile. It’s something that grieves, I guess. Something that says I need to stand a little bit apart from that right now; not forever, but for a while.
It’s all confusing.
A lot of it’s reactionary, and that makes me feel crazy.
And then the other day I thought about something that helped me make sense of some of it.
The thing is, it’s pain. I know pain, it’s not like we’ve never met before. I am a dancer, after all; pain is a given. Now I’ve never before met pain like this, and dear God , I hope we don’t stay close long, but there you go. It’s not altogether brand new.
And I thought about my broken rib when I was doing A Chorus Line. I thought about how A Chorus Line was my job, there was no option to not do it; not for me, anyway. And for a good long while, I went into each show expecting the pain. I learned which parts of the show made the pain more acute; I learned to breathe through these parts and anticipate the relief that was sure to come once that number was over.
Because it never lasted forever.
And I relied on that fact. I also, to be honest, changed when the pain was the worst. I reacted to it and pulled my dancing in. I didn’t do everything the same as before, didn’t try to pretend as if I was not in that pain. I acknowledged it, did what I could, and didn’t sweat it if my jumps weren’t as high or my movement wasn’t as sharp.
And I realized that all of that applies to my emotional pain too.
Right now, life is my job and it’s not an option to quit, much as I feel like it sometimes. But it’s okay if I limp a little, so to speak. It’s also important to at least try to realize that it’s not gonna last forever. Though, that is really difficult when I am in the throes of it. That is usually when someone comes on the scene to talk me down from the ledge, metaphorically speaking.
But these thoughts, they somehow made me feel better. They gave me some perspective.
Still, I’d trade this pain for that broken rib any day.
JFK
in Thoughts and Feelings
as America, Caroline, dallas, God, husband, Jackie Kennedy, JFK, John, John Kennedy, Knoll, Lee Harvey Oswald, M.E, Mrs. Kennedy, parkland hospital, President Johnson, President Kennedy, President Lincoln, school book depository, Secret, texas, texas school book depository, today, Vice President Johnson
So, what do you think of when you hear, The Texas School Book Depository? Or how about, The Grassy Knoll? Um, a motorcade? Lee Harvey Oswald? Let me make it really easy for you: JFK. All of that took place just ten minutes from where I am staying. In fact, I’ve passed the grassy knoll [...]
