Thursday, January 24, 2013

From May

It's hard not to hate people who are in love.  Okay, that was a dramatic overstatement. I don't hate people who are in love, in fact I genuinely feel happy for the couples who aren't gross in public.  Still, when I saw my best friend's shadow connected to her boyfriend's, long and lean as we moved across the pavement, their hands indistinguishable from one another, a whisper of envy rasped through my mind.  I've never held hands with someone I really cared about.  I've dreamed about the familiarity of interlocked fingers, of thumb over thumb, of filling the space between palms with warm conversation.  I've thought about holding hands just for the motionwrist to heel to crease to fingers.  But I've never been connected to a long, lean shadow, and so the envy creeps in.

Today (Memorial Day) was much more difficult than I had anticipated.  Perhaps it was due to the lack of sleep, or to the impromptu visit to the cemetery, or maybe it's just that I haven't cried in such a long time.  Whatever the reason, I found myself sobbing silently at the top of the staircase by the sound booth during "How Could I Ever Know".  I still had to sing the finale, and I knew people would see me, but I couldn't stop crying.  All at once I was overwhelmed with the anxiety I've been keeping at bay.  I thought of the sweet boy I had to hurt, and of the idiocy of my fears, and of the loneliness that ever  slinks along behind me, eager to pounce.  My mind was awash with every emotion I'd suppressed since Tech Week, and, unable to process all of this, I cried until I got home and had to wrestle my leftovers into the fridge.

I was shorter than I should have been with Laurel.  When we got in her car, she cracked a joke about the tissue box.  I came up with a snappy retort, I just didn't have the energy to say it out loud.


Recorded 5/28/12

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