Library Anxiety

This has to be a work week. I need to stop pretending I'm a lady of leisure. The prospectus for my major research paper this semester is due on Monday and I still don't even really have a topic worked out. I just contacted a professor about one of my few remaining outstanding incompletes and what I thought was supposed to be a 20 page paper for him is actually supposed to be a 30-40 page paper. Oh-- and there's one more paper this semester that I owe ProfPP and I haven't started that one yet either.

I've been doing a hell of a lot of reading and a hell of a lot of thinking, but it's really hard for me to work this way. I need time and space in my brain to let an idea drift around for a while, take shape and bring itself to fruition. I need time for my thoughts to ripen. It's how I work... I think for a really, really long time, and then when I finally sit down to write, the paper is almost entirely there already. That's really hard to do, though, when there are three distinct areas of research battling for my attention and all of them need to develop into coherent arguments in the next two weeks or so! How else will I have time to do all of the writing? I only have three months until the end of the semester.

Hmm... I'm stressed. I need to make some commitments to the library.

I bought a book that my therapist recommended to me. It's called Getting Organized. (There's a quiz in the front of the book that Narc told me to take while "sucking his dick." He read the questions and I murmured answers. Thanks to my apparent ability to multi-task, I did manage to learn that yes-- I need a LOT of organizational help!!) Anyway, I'm trying to take the suggestions outlined in the book. Maybe it will help me buckle down in terms of getting to the library.

On Tuesday night after AA I went over to Narc's. We watched some "Lost," ordered in cheap Mexican food, fucked around and went to sleep. On Wednesday when I should have been in the library, I instead stayed at Narc's, ate some sushi, watched some more "Lost" and fucked around some more. I didn't feel good about wasting the day. I am too anxiously aware right now of the work that needs to get done.

I left his place at around 4:30 for my voice lesson. It was a good lesson. I especially love singing the Aida aria. Later that evening I had dinner with Mattie, a friend from AA, and then NDN and I hung out at my place for a little while before bed.

Narc went ahead two episodes of "Lost" without me (even though I asked him not to), but I managed to convince him to stop there. I tried to catch up last night, and ended up not being able to fall asleep until around 3:30 AM.

See? All play and no work makes Hyde a guilty and anxious ball of nerves who can't sleep...

Yuck. I'm feeling kind of stressed. I'm supposed to go to the opera with my mom on Saturday-- we have tickets for Otello. But if I have to hand in a prospectus on my research paper on Monday, I may not be able to go. I may just have to chain myself to a desk in the library.

Anyway, I've got to get started on my day now. Later...

love,
h

Dissatisfied with the Prize

Well, things with Narc have settled into a somewhat (normal?) state of thrill, by which I'm strangely unmoved. I'm sad, in a "not sad" sort of way. It's not so thrilling after all. I was kind of depressed this morning.

Anyway, I don't even know where to pick up, where I left off... I've lost my blogging rhythm.

On Thursday night, I was up late. From my bed, I could see fat snowflakes falling in the darkness. They looked like ashes-- like something horrible and silent was burning, sending parts of itself to float up and against my window.

I spent a lot of time deep in conversation with Pixie this weekend. We met for coffee before AA on Friday. While I waited for her to arrive, I was reading a book by Carl Schorske. I think he is a soul mate of sorts.

Narc texted me late on Friday night-- 2:38 AM to be exact. I agreed to meet him at Grace. When I got there, he was talking to some guy who had been an actor on One Life to Live, playing some bit role. I didn't recognize him.

Narc was drunk. He had been to the theater with a lawyer friend of his-- "the Shark." He left the bartender a $50 tip. I had to hold his hand on the way home.

Back at his place, I asked if he would print one of his beautiful photos for me so that I could hang it on my living room wall. He poured himself a giant gin-martini. He didn't want to kiss me with the gin on his breath. It was sweet that he was concerned for my sobriety. In any case, he insisted that his drink was incomplete without a cucumber garnish. The only cucumber he had was rotting. It was 5:00 AM. Even so, he insisted we call the deli. We ordered a cucumber, some cool ranch Doritos and a club sandwich. Then we commenced smoking cigarettes. He kissed me. He fucked me really hard and very creatively in every way imaginable. (At least in every way I could imagine). I'll leave it at that.

He wanted to play "Flow," but I convinced him at around 6:00 AM that I had to get to bed before the sun came up.

The next morning, it was as if it was still the previous night. He was absolutely crazy with me. I did something kind of stupid, though-- I let him make a tape. So... it's official. I now have a "sex tape" out there. I think I need to get it back sooner rather than later. We were just "on," though-- like in the old days. He told me he loves me over and over and over during sex. I asked him to say it again. Is that just something he wanted to say? Something I wanted to hear? Who the fuck knows...

I had to leave at around 6:00 PM to go hear Meema speak at my home group's Saturday night meeting. I sat with Cherubino. Meema looked radiant and she was so eloquent. I was so proud of her. I met Pixie's new sponsee and talked to Leaf for a little while. I was happy... truly happy. I felt balanced (for once!) and close to God.

When I left there I bought roses-- brilliant, blooming yellow roses and pink ones too. I wanted my arms to be filled with roses. I wanted the scent of roses to obliterate me so that I could waft up into the sky along with it. I got in a cab and went back to Narc's.

Narc and I cut the flowers and put them in vases all over the apartment. I was happy. Then, we headed out to Centrico, a gourmet Mexican place near his apartment. The Exhibitionist kept texting him.

"I'll shut my phone off," he said.

We talked and talked and talked-- it was a good and true conversation. We talked about recovery and God and life. I told him things I haven't told him before. Strangely, we talked about the day he stood me up for La Bohème. I tried to explain that looking back on that post, I am finally able to see how irrational I was at the time. He kept interrupting me and apologizing.

"I know you thought I stood you up on purpose," he said, "but I didn't. I really didn't."

After dinner, we went over to Blaue Gans for dessert and coffee. Narc had some wine and told me about some short stories he had written when he was a teenager. I asked if I could read them.

Back at his apartment, we started Season 2 of Lost, cuddled and went to sleep.

On Sunday morning I woke up in some serious pain. When I went to pee, it was so much worse. I had managed to give myself an overnight bladder infection-- blood in the urine and all. Narc said he knew of a walk-in clinic where I could get an antibiotic. Fatigued and feverish, I left as soon as I could.

Thank God there was a doctor to be had! He prescribed me some Cipro, and I collapsed into bed. Cherubino came over at around 2:00 PM to work on my 10th step. I'm nearing the finish line with my step work!! We watched half of a really bad movie called Whiskers. I invited her to stay over and watch the Oscars, but later backed out because I was feeling so out of it. The fever and fatigue seemed to be getting worse.

I ended up watching the awards alone and in bed, but it was cozy and kind of nice. Narc texted me at the end-- he had a mini Oscar-party (guess I'm still not invited to any of his parties!) and the Shark was crashed on his couch.

Yesterday I woke up in even more pain, although the fatigue was pretty much gone. With more blood in my urine, I decided to go see my regular doctor. She told me that I'm probably dehydrated and that I should take cranberry, take the Cipro and drink, drink, drink! I didn't tell her that I knew why I had the infection... Um... yeah...

Later on, I met Bezoukhoff for coffee near school. I told him that I want to email Carl Schorske. Then I went to class. We had a guest speaker and it was actually really useful in terms of research advice.

Back home, I settled in to finish off Season 2 of The Sopranos, talked to Pixie on the phone for a while and then got a call from Narc. It was around midnight and he was drunk. He said he was on the Upper East Side and that he wanted to come over. I was tired and not particularly in the mood to deal with a drunk (a good sign, given that I used to only LOVE dealing with drunks!). I told him he could come over anyway.

He watched the end of the Sopranos episode with me, and then insisted that we smoke cigarettes together at my kitchen bar/counter. He asked if I was attracted to Tony Soprano.

"Of course," I said.

"But he's an asshole!" Narc exclaimed. "You women are all the same!!"

I wanted to show him the DVD from my recital. He was definitely impressed. But he wanted to feel me up while we were watching and then he wanted to kiss me. The kisses were deep. It made me happy that seeing me sing made him want to be intimate.

Afterwards, it all spun into more sex-- more crazy sex. I don't know what's with us lately. It's as if we've been bitten by some sort of bug. We fucked and fucked and fucked and then went to bed at around 3:00.

This morning he left the house with me at around 11:00 AM. The elevators in my building were running dreadfully slow. We bumped into my neighbor in the hall and I introduced him to Narc (even though they had met a few years ago at NDN's sushi dinner). As we were leaving the building, the doorman told me that someone had left me a gift-- an enormous, plush teddy bear. It was from NDN! Yay!

Narc and I talked about his Oscar party. He had told me that it was only a group of guys, but later confessed that the girl James had fucked in LA had been there. (She's an actress living in the East Village). I wondered why he lied to me in the first place. It made me uncomfortable.

Now I'm in my office, between teaching classes. Narc just sent me a text telling me to get some "Plan B." It's not really necessary, but he is nervous, so I agreed. Then he told me to call him and masturbate with him on the phone. I'm supposed to go down and see him after AA tonight.

I'm happy, I guess. I love him... I asked him last night if he loves me and he said that he does, over and over. But his eyes were dull last night-- dull and drunk, and I don't want to have sex with a drunk man anymore. I want him to be present. I want us to be friends. I want to get asked to his parties.

I feel like in the past, this is all I could hope for or ask for-- his presence, his declarations of love, the insanely passionate sex... But, it's not enough. I'm dissatisfied with the prize. I want more.

I want more.

Now, I'm confused. Über-confused! I think that's why I'm feeling depressed.

love,
h

Ambivalence

People keep asking me how I am and the only thing I can tell them is "ambivalent."

There are some things in my life that are going so beautifully right now-- school, for one. It's the first time in a long, long time that I've really enjoyed researching and writing, that I've felt passionate about being a student.

But other things feel like they've all gone pear-shaped. For one thing, I've been obsessing about food and the fact that I'm not exercising. It's an old anxious feeling that I don't like. It feels like an old scar torn open-- a deep wound that I thought had healed. Another thing-- it's really bothering me that my house is a mess. I feel like an undeserving person. I don't know if I'm not keeping it clean because I feel undeserving, or if I feel undeserving because I'm not keeping it clean.

I guess I'm feeling ambivalent about the blog too. I need to change something-- even if I don't stop writing, I need to change something. It's purpose? It's rhythm? Maybe just the template? Who knows...

Oh, and I have news...

Narc got back from LA on Tuesday night and I ended up going to see him after spending half an hour with him on the phone.

Here's the big announcement: He decided not to move to LA after all.

Are you surprised?

My first instinct was immediate relief. I was flooded with sweet relief... gratitude. But while we were hanging out at his place, other feelings came up-- feelings I haven't had to deal with in at least a month or so.

So, what's our status then? I wanted to ask. What am I to you? How do you feel about me? I don't want to be with you anymore if you are going to be sexual with anyone else.

But, we've had that conversation a thousand times. I'm sure it's all recorded somewhere in these blog archives. They've each and every one of them been forgotten.

"Of course I love you, but we're not in a relationship," Narc says. "We aren't cut out for a relationship. We're no good for each other."

"I know that, Narc, and I know you think that, but this hurts. I have feelings for you... I've had them all along," I say.

"Well, I don't know what you want from me, Hyde. Maybe we should just stop having sex then," Narc replies.

"Maybe we should!" I exclaim in tears.

Then we don't talk for several days. I cry a lot and write posts about how I can't believe it's finally over. Then, before the week is out, he calls me drunk.

"I just miss you," he says. "I want you to come here and fuck me."

"But, what about our talk?" I ask, feebly. "What about everything we said?"

"Just come here, Hyde," he insists.

I obey. I fuck him. We act in the morning like nothing unusual happened. We watch dumb TV or go for brunch. It's as if the conversation never happened.

Things go on as usual, but a small piece of me is dead. It's the negation of self. I am erased.

I don't know if I can go through it again. What's the point?

So, I won't initiate that conversation. But I swear, it's now on the tip of my tongue.

Narc says that he may still go to LA in six months or a year. Why did he decide not to move now? They couldn't find the right place; two of the five of them weren't ready to move; one of them can't pitch in an equal amount of rent; and then there's James.

Apparently, the first night they arrived, James got wasted, asked a cab driver where he could get some blow, went to a strip club with the cab driver, did the coke and blew at least a thousand dollars on lap dances. After that, he went back to the hotel with the cabbie, hired a prostitute and the two of them gang-banged her. (Does two consitute a "gang-bang?" Maybe I should have said they "double teamed" her.)

Narc drinks, but he never acts like that. He's a bar stool drinker who occasionally delivers a drunken manifesto before stumbling home. James is another story altogether. I think Narc was afraid to move in with James in LA and wager his future on that partnership. He must have had a moment of clarity. He also doesn't want to be in a city in which he has to drive everywhere.

Am I happy he's not going? I don't know how to feel. More fucking ambivalence.

We brunched on Wednesday, but I haven't heard from him today.

AA was good today, though. I got there early and talked to Cherubino for a while. Afterwards I had dinner with my friend Lana and then spent at least an hour talking to Pixie on the phone. She needed help working through some things and the conversation really helped me too.

Yesterday was a good day with friends too. After therapy I met Anxious at Bloomingdales (she's back in town for a visit) and then we spent a long time playing at the MAC counter. I told the makeup artist there that I wanted to look "feverish."

"As if my heart is burning with ardor," I said. "I want something that will go with flashing eyes a la Dostoevsky."

I think he thought I was nuts.

I got the DVD of my recital at my voice lesson that afternoon and watched it later at my place, hanging out with Bezoukhoff. For the most part, I was pleased with it. We at dinner at La Bonne Soupe. We talked about the Thirty Years War and then I told Bezoukhoff that I've always had a strange sympathy for Charles V. We found a very florid description of the death of the emperor in a 19th century book called The Romance of Spanish History. We also listened to Purcell's funerary music written for Queen Mary II of England.

So... good things and bad things. I feel like I'm under a lot of psychic strain right now.

But, despite all of the confusion, I am feeling close to God. I just don't know what I'm supposed to do. (Maybe I'm not supposed to DO anything? Maybe this isn't all up to me right now?)

Anyway, that's all I've got for tonight. I want to eat a pretzel rod and go to bed.

love,
h

The Long Haul

I've been giving some serious thought to calling it quits in terms of blogging. A lot has been going on, and I just don't feel like writing at all these days... I've still got a week's worth of stuff to catch up on-- more than a week at this point-- and I don't really feel like doing it.

Then again, I feel guilty not chronicling (is that weird?), so here it is:

Last Sunday night I got back from Florida. Narc had said to call him when I got in, so I did-- after I got home. It must have been around 12:30 AM. He was out at EO with James. He picked up the phone when I called. I showered and all that before heading out to meet him. He was still at the bar, so I met him there, arriving at around 2:00 AM.

He and James were both pretty drunk when I arrived. James was dancing around the place by himself and Narc held my hand under the table. He was talking about some video game business. James greeted me with a prolonged hug, but seemed a little annoyed that I was there.

"He chose you over me," he said.

I guess he had been trying to convince Narc to come back to his place to play "Rock Band."

"Yeah, well he always chooses you over me!" I laughed.

"That's not true!" Narc protested. He suddenly had a very solemn look on his face. "That's not true."

When we left the bar at around 3:30, James decided to stay. Narc and I crawled into a cab.

"I have something special to show you," he said.

"What?"

He wouldn't say.

Back at his place, he told me that he wanted me to go up to the roof with him. I thought it was really sweet. I love being up on his roof, and he never lets us go there (as it's not an open roof deck). It was absolutely freezing out, though, and he was swaying with the wind, so much so that I was afraid he would fall. He wanted to look at the lights. I think he was getting nostalgic about leaving NY. I kissed him, but it was too cold to stay up there for long. Besides, he was so drunk, I was really afraid that he'd fall over the edge or something.

So, we headed back downstairs. The sex was insane... absolutely insane. We were up until around 6:00 AM. He told me that he loves me, but then again, he was drunk.

The next day I had a 1:00 PM appointment for therapy. We woke up around 12:30 PM, so I jumped out of bed in a slight panic. Narc insisted (demanded) that I get back into bed to have sex with him.

"But, I have to go!"

"No, you don't. You have to get back in bed."

I was totally conflicted. But then again, it wasn't that much of a conflict. I already knew what I was going to do. I'm slightly embarrassed by my choice, but yes-- I did skip therapy. I was swimming in guilt for the rest of the day!

So, Narc and I hung out for the entire afternoon. I tried to read some articles for class and talked to Contessa on the phone, as that was the afternoon I heard the terrible news about her dad. I had to leave for a meeting with my advisor at around 5:00. Narc told me to come back later.

The meeting with ProfBrit went really well. I was nervous about it, as my thoughts were completely scattered upon arrival, but after our meeting, I had a few directions to go exploring in terms of a paper topic. He is a really helpful and active advisor-- exactly what I need. From there, I went to class and then I headed back down to see Narc.

He and James were eating at the Blue Goose, so I met them over there. I ordered lobster ravioli (which I couldn't finish eating b/c I tasted a hint of white wine in it. Ugh!). After dinner, Narc and I headed back to his place, ate dinner and headed to bed.

"Am I really going to move to LA?" he asked.

"I don't know... it's kind of scary, isn't it?"

"My lease is due this weekend."

"I thought it was due Feb 1st!" I said.

"No. The 17th."

"Well, you'd be moving with friends, right?"

"James is the only one 100% committed," he sighed. "And James can be like an untrained puppy."

I laughed. It was the most apt description I had ever heard.

The conversation left me very ambivalent-- its an ambivalance that has been with me ever since. I want him to move desperately (God doing for me what I can't do for myself), but at the same time, I want him to stay desperately. Anxious, sad and elated all rolled into one. It's strange to let myself feel things. Remember when I used to drown it all away?

The next day, I headed home in the afternoon. My AA meeting that night was the first I had been to in nearly a week. I really needed it. Afterwards, I came home, ate some Chinese food and went to bed.

On Wednesday I slept in. I was feeling a little depressed, although I'm not sure why. Narc had sent me some incoherent text at around 6:00 AM. I guess he was out drinking and doing whatever with James...

I went to therapy that afternoon and confessed the reason for my missed appointment on Monday. It felt good to be honest, even though I was embarrassed about it. I'm not used to being completely honest like that. From there I headed straight to my voice lesson. My teacher completely surprised me by announcing that she was hosting a recital on Sunday night and that I would be performing Massenet's "Pleurez, pleurez mes yeux." We worked on the aria for pretty much the entire hour. Then I headed west to meet Leaf, a girl I know from AA. My sponsor was singing in a concert version of The Marriage of Figaro later that night and Leaf and I were going together.

I had pretty bad stomach pains that afternoon-- I think it was from the fact that I fasted all day except for two cans of red bull. Oops... Before getting to Leaf's apartment, I stopped at the Border's Bookstore at the Time Warner Center. I bought a few books about aesthetics and critical theory and saw a funny book about "Lost" and philosophy. I texted Narc to tell him that I had fessed up to my therapist.

Well then that wasn't so bad now was it!! he said, later adding Think you made the right decision...

Yeah, you would think that! ;) I wrote back.

Leaf and I went for a quick bite at the diner before heading over to the concert (although I could barely eat.) Cherubino needed me to buy her an emergency pair of pantyhose. She sang beautifully and I was impressed with most of the performers. She should have had the larger roll of "Cherubino," though-- she was much better than the other mezzo!

I was exhausted when I got back home that night. I caught up on One Life to Live and talked to StarGazer and then Pixie on the phone for a while. It felt better to talk to them. I hadn't realized how disconnected I had become from AA in just a week of absence. I got undressed and climbed into bed at around 1:00 AM. Just as I did so, I got a text from Narc:

Back at my place if you want to come down... he said.

Huh? Don't you have to be up super early? I asked. (He was leaving for LA in the morning-- he and James were going out there to scope out the real estate situation.)

Leaving at 7. Your call.

K. Guess I can roll out then...

As you like hon. Am here as you know...

So... I headed downtown. I was tired, but too happy to care.

I am so glad that I went there that night. When I arrived, he was already in bed with the lights out.

"You're asleep already! Why'd you call me down here? Don't you want to talk?"

"Well, I have to be up early... We can talk in bed."

I asked him what he had done that day. He said he had dinner with his friend M. He told me that she is going to lose her horse because the ranch is being sold.

"I feel so bad for her," he said. "She's had a rough deal. I told her that I'd buy her the horse."

"What? Are you kidding me? You're going to buy her a horse?"

"Her horse," he said.

"Isn't that crazy expensive?" I asked.

"Nah... They said they'd sell it to her for a few thousand dollars. I spend that in a week on food and drink," he laughed.

"That's very sweet of you," I said.

Then we were both silent for a while. I wanted to say "Happy Valentine's Day" so badly, but I didn't dare. We stayed silent. He pulled me in so close that I could barely breathe. I decided to dare.

"Happy Valentine's Day," I said.

He laughed. "Oh yeah-- Happy Valentine's to you too."

Then it was silent again.

"I love you," he said.

I couldn't believe it.

"I love you too."

It was the most amazing moment for me. I was so happy. We had sex (sort of ) and then I just burrowed down and went to sleep.

(My reality is real. It is real. It is real.)

On Thursday morning he got out of bed at 6:00 AM and started packing. I lay there for a while longer. James rang while Narc was in the shower. I think he was surprised to see me answer the door. I was half asleep, but waited until Narc finished getting ready and then walked them both out of the house. You'd think I'd be tired, but Thursday ended up being a tremendously productive day. After I saw the boys off, I went home, watched an episode of "Lost" and updated my syllabus.

After that, I taught two classes, did some work in between (ensconced in Victorian aesthetics!) and then went to AA. After the meeting, Pixie hosted a little Valentine's gathering for the ladies-- about ten of us. It turned out that I had the most sobriety of everyone at the dinner. How the fuck did that happen??

After dinner, I walked over to the bar on the Upper East Side where IrishBird is now working. I've been meaning to visit her for a while. It's been at least a year since I've seen her, I think. She looked great-- she cut her hair and it was bouncy and she was just shining. She said that she's so grateful she got out of her relationship with PumpedUp and that she's now dating a 23-year-old investment banker. (I think IrishBird is 32 or 33).

"Cheers had my head spinning," she said. "That whole world-- it was like a trap to me, with its own warped logic. And PumpedUp was downright emotionally abusive!"

"It was a trap to me too," I laughed.

She introduced me to some "regulars" at her new place, including the guy sitting to my left. I hung out there for a while talking to him. He was definitely flirting with me, but in a nice way. It was flattering and felt good. He asked me a million questions about myself, told me that he's usually there on Thursdays and asked if I would be back. He saw that I wasn't drinking and made it a point to tell me that he doesn't drink "that much." (He also said he spends loads of time at the bar, though). I told him I was sure I'd be back and would see him again. But as nice as that was, I have no interest in A.) picking up guys at a bar/ and B.) seeing anyone other than Narc right now.

Seeing IrishBird made me nostalgic, though-- maybe not such a good thing. In any case, I stopped in at Cheers on my way home. ThursdayGirl and I had a nice chat. BarMan and I got to catch up for a little while too. He told me to come back on a Monday night so that we could catch up properly with a smaller crowd in attendance. PumpedUp came in as I was leaving. He was with a little blonde with a pony-tail. He called me over to introduce me and slung his arm around me. He made the same comment that BarMan had made a few weeks ago-- that they had to order a case fewer of Jack Daniels when I stopped drinking.

"But... she needed to," he laughed.

"Yes, I did," I said.

I felt good when I left Cheers that night. Were the stars in alignment? I don't know. I only know that I loved everything about my life at that very moment-- everything. I loved my family, my home, my city, my friends, my sobriety, my AA group, my studies, my teaching, my Narc. So, I thanked God for all of it as I crossed the street.

On Friday I headed to the library in the morning. I had an appointment with ProfBrit at 3:00 PM and had a lot of work to get done before the meeting. I worked for about 5 hours and then went to meet him. It felt good to be back in school and to be living in the past again in my brain-- not my personal obsessive past, but the wonderful escape of the historical past.

That night I had plans with my friend BahBoy to go to some sort of Weimar-esque cabaret in which his friend was the accompanist. I hadn't seen him in quite some time. We met at a Thai restaurant (which was really good!). He's growing a beard. He told me that he just got a two year contract with the opera company in Bonn and that he's moving to Germany in August. Very exciting! He also had an audition with Sherrill Milnes the next day, for some sort of Master Class. Sherrill Milnes is one of my favorite singers of all time. He's been retired for a while though, but I got to see him sing Falstaff in '96. It's funny because I actually attended that opera with BahBoy. We somehow managed to sneak our way into backstage and met him briefly after the show. I went with B to see him give a Master Class at MSM in April, 1998.

Anyway, BahBoy's friend was performing at Don't Tell Mama's. It was a good show, but I thought the artist was a little smug. I don't know... maybe it's my historian-snobbery, but I don't like when people appropriate the past in a post-modern sort of way without having bothered to immerse themselves in it. He did a few odd numbers-- a dark cabaret version of "I Touch Myself" by the Divynls. He also sang "Missed Me" by the Dresden Dolls which I absolutely loved-- so much so that I went home and downloaded their album.

We didn't stay out too late, as he had to get rest before his audition in the morning. It was fine with me. I was in the mood to go home and continue pressing on through Season One of "Lost."

On Saturday I met B for lunch near school and then we both went up to the English Department lounge and did some work-- he on his dissertation and me on my seminar paper. I miss the days when B and I used to kill whole afternoons together.

I didn't go out on Saturday night. I attended a rehearsal with the accompanist to get ready for the next day's recital. But after that, I was in the mood to stay home and attempt to tidy what is quickly becoming a hell-hole of a mess in my apartment.

On Sunday I slept in and then cleaned up a little bit more in the morning. My parents came into the city and I met them for lunch. We ate at a diner on First Avenue and then they headed off to go see The Band's Visit (Bikur hatizmoret) while I went home to warm up and get changed for the recital that night.

The recital was over on the West Side-- right near where B and I used to live. There were only six of us singing, as a lot of people (including Cherubino!) had come down with terrible colds. I was really nervous, I'm not sure why. I did my best to emote during my performance, although I have a feeling I was still pretty stiff. I think my teacher was pleased with my performance, though, and so that felt good. Some of the other singers commented that I had a huge voice. (Yay. It's good to know, because it's hard for me to hear myself.) Later, Cherubino told me that a friend of hers in the audience asked where I was auditioning and was shocked to hear that I am not out there doing auditions. It felt good to hear that. I need to build up more confidence in identifying myself as a "singer." And who knows-- maybe next year I'll get up the nerve to do some actual auditions.

It was nice that my parents came, even though I had to clip-clop back to their car in my high heels and in the pouring rain. My mom had brought a portrait of me that my dad had bought when I was one or two. She gave it to me that night and I hung it in my hallway.

Later that night, just before 10:00 PM, I got a text from Narc:

You at home alone?

Yeah. Catching up on "Lost," I said. Why? How's your trip?

Sign into AIM, he wrote. I assumed he meant the video-chat.

:) K. Give me a sec...

Well, you can imagine what that was about... Afterwards, I asked him how his trip was. He said that they hadn't found anything close to what they were looking for.

"I guess that's why Entourage is just a TV show," he said.

I asked if he had called his building management about the lease.

"Not yet," he said, "but I'm going to see if I can extend it. Tomorrow we're going to look at property near the beach. Forget Hollywood..."

"I guess you don't have to decide today, right?"

"Actually, Hyde, I kind of do..."

I am starting to wonder if he's actually going to move after all. I guess I'll find out when he gets back whether or not he's going to renew his lease here. I'm scared. My stomach is kind of chewing itself up about all that...

Yesterday was kind of a chill day. I met my friend NiS for lunch in the afternoon. He's a composer living in Paris and was back in NY for a few weeks to give a performance of one of his pieces. We went to college together and met on the Upper West Side for Chinese. It was nice to catch up with him, but we had one of those strange conversations you have with someone you haven't seen in a while-- it was more a report or an update about what's going on, rather than an emotional connection. The lady at the table next to us was eavesdropping on our conversation. She had been rather cranky and rude to the waiter earlier, but said something strange to us as we were getting up to leave.

"Isn't it a miracle that we're all here?" she asked. "I couldn't help but overhear you. Isn't it a miracle that we all even managed to make it into existence?"

It was especially strange, given the piece by Forrest Church that B had just sent me to read a few days earlier. I don't know... it was just an odd NY moment-- we all sit at tables so close to each other in restaurants! You have to just pretend you're in private in this city-- you never really are.

I tried to stop by the school where I teach after that, but my office was locked because the building was closed for President's Day. So... I went home. I talked to GoldenFinch on the phone for a while and then went to get a pedicure.

Later on, I met Hammer at her place. It has been forever since we've hung out! We went over to "Red Mango" for frozen yogurt-- a rival of the "Pinkberry" across the street. I had mochi, cinnamon toast crunch and raspberry toppings on mine. Yum! Then we walked over to IFC to see "4 months-3 weeks- and 2 days" which Hammer assured me was A.O Scott's favorite film of the year. It was a little difficult to watch at points, but overall, it was a phenomenal movie-- it really got at women's emotions in a peculiar way that films rarely do. After the movie, we grabbed a bite at the Gray Dog and then I walked her home, came home myself and quickly fell asleep. Before bed, I sent Narc a text:

Have a safe flight tomorrow. Call when back in.

K, hon! he wrote back.

It's strange that he wrote back-- that he's writing back. It's strange how much of him I've been seeing. It's strange how strangely normal everything is. I don't trust it. I feel like I'm living with this sense of impending doom. When is the rug going to be pulled out from under me?

Anyway, this morning I stopped off at the box office to pick up tickets for Grease. My mom wants to take my stepbrother for his 21st birthday in April. I guess you have to go in person to get the handicapped seat, or something. Then I came here to school where I taught one class and am about to teach another. Later tonight I'm heading to AA, and then hopefully to see Narc, if he does actually call when he gets back.

I hope you are all well...

love,

h

PS: Blogger's spell check isn't working and I don't have time to re-read this thing right now, so I'll have to spell check it later. Forgive the typos!

Poor Contessa

I feel so terrible for my friend Contessa. Her dad went hunting with two friends last week and they disappeared. They searched for them for days. His two companions have been found dead-- one from hypothermia and the other's body was in the water. Her dad hasn't yet been recovered.

It's hard to fathom that I ever thought the world should make sense.

-h-

My most beautiful moment

"Happy Valentine's Day," I said, buried as deeply in his neck as I could be.

"Happy Valentine's to you too," he half laughed.

There was a long pause.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too."

Sober... both of us sober.
Miracles. I am filled to the brim.

love,
h

Family Fêtes

I'm feeling like I better crank this post out before I lose all momentum!

So, here it is-- my trip to Florida:

It was nice.

I couldn't get a cab on my way to the airport though, and so I ended up sharing one with some random lady with teenage kids in Tampa. It was the cheapest trip to the airport ever! Pixie and I had a 4:30 PM appointment to pray together on the phone, but I was in a moment of chaos with last minute packing and then couldn't call her from the cab, given the fact that I wasn't alone. I had to put off the prayers until I actually made it to the airport. It was a little awkward, but I did my thing right near the flight check-in counter. Then I made my way to the gate. I was supposed to meet LilSis and JBC, but I got there first and so Narc and I texted back and forth for a little while. I'm telling you-- he is so fucking available lately. The normalcy is unsettling for me. Is this the same relationship I've been writing about for all these years?

At the airport in Ft Lauderdale we met my Aunt N and Uncle B and cousins Jail and Jol. We all piled into a rental van and headed over to the hotel where LilSis, JBC and I were sharing a "suite" with BigSis and Bro-in-Law. The two of them had arrived the night before and were already half asleep when we came bursting into the hotel room.

On Friday we all assembled for breakfast at the bagel place where my grandparents always used to take us when we vacationed down there during winter break. Then it was over to my grandpa's house where my cousins and sisters and brothers-in-law all tried to soak up the sun, while I hid out in the house. I like to protect my pallid complexion! Besides, I got to keep my stepbrother company while he ate his Cheerios. Later on in the afternoon, everyone went out to the pool down the road while my mom and my grandpa took me to a Kinkos to print out some sheet music. My mom had organized an entire "show" for the birthday party that night. When we got back, I took the script my mom wrote over to the pool and tried to get everyone to practice it with me.

That night we drove up to Boca where the party was being held. It was a great party, in that the feelings around the whole event were wonderful. However, we were supposed to have a private room in the restaurant, but we didn't. It was especially embarrassing to have to put on our show about my grandpa's life "through music" in front of random diners. I had to fumble through numerous piano arrangements and poor BigSis had to carry the vocals. The only part about it I liked was when I dedicated a song to him at the end and actually got to sing something that I felt prepared for and comfortable with-- something that I know I sounded good on!

On Saturday we attempted a beach day, but the weather was gray and the sun only peeked out occasionally through the flashes of rain. Eventually, giving up on the beach we all lunched at Ruby Tuesday's (except for the boys who were off playing golf) and then after resting up at the hotel, we went to the Sawgrass Mills Outlet Center. I bought a pair of Prada sunglasses (for more money than I have!) and some J-crew flip flops. I have to say, though-- the sunglasses make me feel like a rock star, so I think they're worth it.

After shopping, my extended family headed back to the hotel while my sisters, the boys and I grabbed a bite at Outback. Of course, being the insomniac that I am, I was up much later than everyone else, accompanied only by CNN and SNL re-runs. Then Narc started texting me. He texted me every day that I was away! He lived in Boca for a few years.

Is it still pink? he asked.

He said to call him when I got back in on Sunday night. I was in love with it-- all of it, really.

Sunday was my day to catch up with VJ! She met us at my grandpa's house at around 11:00. It was a real shock when I answered the door. She's about seven months pregnant and I haven't seen her in at least a year and a half! Her hair was shorter too. She has a beautiful glow-- I don't know if it's from the pregnancy or just from the fact that she seems to be genuinely happy in her life. It was soooo good to talk to her and catch up. It's strange when you see a friend who you've known for so long but haven't seen for a while-- right away, it's just natural and easy and I felt like myself. (We used to live together as roommates in college, and I have to say-- we were quite a pair!) We relocated over to the pool for a while and then back to my grandpa's place for pizza. I was sad when I had to leave for the airport at around 5:00 PM.

We had flight delays trying to get back to NY. Apparently it was snowing back home. Normally I wouldn't have minded, but the plane was originally meant to land at 10:00 PM. With the delays, we wouldn't touch ground until midnight, and I really wanted to see Narc.

Anyway, I guess I'll leave you all with a "to be continued." I have more to say about Narc (what else is new?) and it just doesn't seem like it should go into the same post as my family vacation...

So... that's it for now!

love,
h

PS: Happy Valentine's Day!!

Back from the Dead

Man, it's been almost a week since I've posted! I don't really have the time right now to say everything that I want to say. I'm kind of exhausted. I just got back from a concert version of The Marriage of Figaro in which Cherubino was singing the roll of "Marcellina." (Does that blow your mind, or what?)

Anyway, the trip to Florida was great-- especially seeing VJ after all this time! I spent the first two days back in NY with Narc. I had a phenomenally productive meeting with my advisor. Oh-- and I found out today that I'm scheduled to sing in a recital on Sunday that I didn't even know about.

I'll try to find some time tomorrow to fill in all of the details. For now, I'm tired, I'm hungry and I just got home, so I've got to go "decompress."

I'm going to try to make the rounds and catch up on all of the blogs I've missed reading.

love,
h

The Sunshine State

I'm off to Florida today. My grandpa is turning 90 and we're all heading down to celebrate-- my parents, my stepbrother, BigSis, LilSis, Bro-in-Law, JBC, my aunt and uncle and my cousins Jail and Jol. I have plans to meet up with VJ on Sunday (who lives in Miami). I haven't seen her in a year and a half, I think... Crazy.

Not much else is going on. I stayed over at Narc's on Tuesday night after StarGazer's anniversary party. We watched a few episodes of Lost. I just started watching Season One and I'm semi-obsessed. It's almost a burden, though-- all those hours of television to get through!!

Yesterday I had to go to the doctor in the morning for my six-month check up. Then I came home, cleaned up my apartment a little, and headed over to my voice lesson. I've been feeling really physically exhausted lately and it really showed up in my singing. I'm not sure if it's because I've been taking on more in terms of school work and it's tiring or if it's from uneven sleep, but whatever it is, I hope it passes. I used to pop Vivarin all day long, but I suppose it's not "sober" behavior, so I haven't done it. The urge is still there though. Ahh... those little yellow pills! I miss them so much!

Anyway, I guess that's it for now. I have to finish getting ready for the trip. I don't want to check any luggage (as I'm only going for the weekend) so I have to figure out how to bring what I want within the airport security guidelines.

I don't think I'll be online at all this weekend, so I hope you all have a good one and I'll be back on Sunday night or Monday with an update.

lots of love,
h

It's in the Cards

NDN told me that my last post was so saccharine that it made him want to puke. Yeah... I guess I can see that. I just needed somewhere to put all that. I'm feeling a little more sane today... balanced... in perspective about Narc and everything else.

I had a pretty wonderful weekend. On Saturday I went to see Die Walküre with B. Lorin Maazel was conducting, and as he's never at the Met, I've never heard him before. (I think they said it's been 45 years since he's done something at the Met!) B and I disagreed on his performance-- I loved it, whereas B was less than impressed. I thought the texture was amazingly clear and it was dramatic without being opaque and bombastic. B thought he disturbed the "flow," but I think that's what kept me so engaged. I was anticipating more difficulty concentrating through five hours of Wagner, but for some reason, I wasn't bored for a moment of it! Of course, Deborah Voigt and James Morris were awesome, but I was surprised that I also really like the tenor who sang Siegmund-- Clifton Forbis. He sounded a little like a baritone, but was a true heldentenor and the part where he sings out "Walse! Walse!" had chills running down my arms. It was so cheesy, but so wonderful and so 19th century. It was almost unbearable. I was exhilarated.

Narc texted me during the opera; so did my friend BahBoy, the opera singer who's back in town for the next few weeks.

Afterwards, B and I walked to the train together at Columbus Circle. I had to head out to Queens to BigSis' place. I had invited my mom and BigSis and BigSis' friend English to watch La Vie en Rose. B and I parted ways at Times Square, but because of track work, I had to go all the way down to West 4th Street to get the E or the F train headed towards Queens. It was about a 30 minute detour total, and I was very annoyed.

In any case, they all loved the movie, so I was happy. Bro-in-Law stuck around long enough to eat Chinese food with us, but didn't watch. My mom brought bags of jeans I had saved from a few years ago, and I was thrilled to find that they all fit me again. Yay! They are all my "skinny jeans," so if I shrink below the size I am now, I officially get a new wardrobe. Kind of exciting...

Narc had texted me a few times, asking what I was up to, so we made a plan to meet when I got back to the city. I didn't get home until around midnight. He was out with his friend Mike (one of the crew he's planning on moving to LA with) and so I didn't end up getting to him until about 1:00 AM. He told me to "surprise us" with a new Ben & Jerry's flavor. :)

We had a nice night. When I got there, he was eating Domino's cheesy bread and had ordered wings. I had a few of those.

"Your present has arrived," he said.

"Oh?"

"I got you a mermaid tarot!"

It was soooo sweet. I was really happy. We watched some TV. I fell asleep on his lap while Deep Impact was on. He fell asleep too. So, we recorded the end of the movie and crawled into bed.

I ended up spending the entire next day with him too. James left several urgent messages that morning telling Narc to "get out of bed and join him for lunch," but Narc ignored them all. Strange... James' ex was out partying in the Hamptons this weekend (people do that in February?) so James was "stuck" with the kids. Apparently he managed to find a sitter for a few hours and that was why he was so desperate for "brunch and vino" as he put it. It made me feel sad for those kids-- that both their parents are sniffing coke and running around to clubs all the time. The world is a strange place. It's weird watching their little lives get formed from where I am-- on the sidelines of the sidelines. Even though Narc is James' best friend and even though his kids live ten minutes away, Narc has only met them once. I don't understand all of that...

Anyway, he wanted to watch The King of Kong with me, so we walked over to the video store and bought a copy. It felt like Spring outside. I was happy to walk with him.

I have to say-- the movie was hysterically funny. "Billy Mitchell" is a tour de force. Seriously-- you have to watch it to see what I mean. It was a great movie. (And incidentally, Billy Mitchell looks sort of like SeattleGuy if you subtract the ridiculous hair. It was weird...) We ordered in sandwiches and watched all of the extras on the DVD too-- several hours of laying around on the couch.

After that, we watched more TV. And more TV. And more TV. We watched the end of Deep Impact. We watched Dirty Dancing. And we watched five episodes of Season 1 of Lost. We are probably the only people who sat around watching TV for the entire day on Superbowl Sunday and didn't once turn on the game. Especially here in NY!!

Anyway, it wasn't all a waste, as I managed to read through an article and start to put together my presentation while all of this TV was humming in the background.

By midnight, though, I was ready to shoot myself if any more TV seeped into my saturated and atrophying brain.

"Narc, I can't take it anymore!!!"

"So... what do you want to do?"

"Something else. Tell me a story."

He laughed. He didn't tell me a story. We just sat and chatted for a little while. I felt dulled.

"Well, show me how to do a reading, then," I said.

I took out the picture of the Celtic cross layout.

"How does this work?"

Narc helped me and we got a strangely insightful reading with my mermaid cards.

"You didn't really ask a question, though," he said, "so it's hard to direct the cards. Let me show you something else."

He said he was going to do an "Angel reading" for me with his Rider-Waite deck. He pulled the four "angel" cards from the deck-- "The Lovers," "Temperance," "Judgment" and "The Devil," and he told me to order the cards. I put them in the order I just listed them.

"Judgment is your obstacle," he said. "That's the one that's going to preside over the reading."

Then he took out a piece of paper and divided it into three columns.

"You have to ask a question," he said.

I had only one question in my mind-- would I survive him leaving? How could I ask that without asking that?

"Will I have peace of mind, be at peace with my life, this Summer?"

"Ok."

He wrote down three questions-- one on the top of each column. Where am I now? What obstacles brought me here? What do I have to do to overcome these obstacles?

Then he shuffled the rest of the deck and lay out four piles of three cards.

"We're going to flip over the angel cards and assign one to each pile and when your angel, Judgment, comes up, those are your cards."

The Judgment angel showed up on the first pile.

"Dying to get at it, huh?" he laughed.

Then he flipped over each card. Here was my reading.

1.) WHERE AM I NOW? : The Page of Cups

2.) WHAT OBSTACLES BROUGHT ME HERE? : The two of swords

3.) WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO OVERCOME THESE OBSTACLES? : The ten of swords



So, basically, without going into all of the details, here's the general analysis that Narc gave me...

The page of cups is about the beginning of bringing something into full manifestation. It's related to "emotional beginnings." The page is rooted in the emotional and spiritual and people represented by this card are supposedly "true romantics at heart."

"So-- you're at the start of a journey," he said. "And it's an optimistic beginning."

The next card-- my obstacles, was even more accurate. He said that the card represents a stalemate-- a conflict between two equally matched forces. Neither has the advantage. This is a long period of confusion and stagnation. (Hmm... sounds familiar.) He told me that the figure in the card is choosing to cross her arms in front of her heart to protect it from perceived danger. If this barrier is pried away, it will be painful but freeing. (I remembered when IrishBird told me I had "tunnel vision.") We looked up the card to get a more in depth reading.

"The Two of Swords shows those times when you deliberately avoid seeing the truth. Maybe one of your ideas has been proven incorrect and, though you see that you were wrong, you do not want to admit it. It can be painful to remove a blindfold and see the truth, because even the softest light will blind those who have lived in darkness. But being blinded by the light is far preferable to being blinded by darkness."

"I don't know about that," I said. "Sometimes it's preferable to be blinded by the darkness."

He didn't say anything.

"But maybe I'm just saying that because I'm still in that stalemate."

"No you're not," he said. "You're the page of cups. The stalemate has blocked you in the past, but you're about to begin your journey. You're already in the light."

It was weird to hear those words in his voice.

"Now for the last card," he said.

The ten of swords: "Even though only one sword would be needed to kill this man, ten were used: he has not simply been killed, but annihilated."

Is that the annihilation of my love? I wondered. My personal myth? My ego? My vision? My Narc?

Narc pointed out that the ten of swords is the last of the numbered swords-- the end of the ordeal. "No more pain will come to you from that source."

Online it said that the sun in the background of the card represents a new beginning arising from an ending. "The Ten of Swords is a sign that what you have gone through was not without purpose. The great positive power within you can be used to learn from your pain and draw wisdom from defeat."

My heart was filled with wondering about all of it-- is this really the end for me and Narc? Am I really living a denouement?

We went to bed not long after that. I found it hard to breathe.

The next morning we slept in a little too late, and then prolonged our time in bed a little too long. I had to get up and out to go to therapy. I don't know why, but when he was in the shower, I looked at his phone... maybe I did it because I know that he looked at mine last week. I don't know why I did it. I kind of hate that I did. It was a compulsion. I think I was looking for pain.

Guess what? I found it... sort of. I mean, I found something that should have caused me pain, but for some reason it didn't.

He had texted the Exhibitionist early last week and told her that he slept with three women that week-- me, ModelChick (his ex) and his friend Robyn.

"It was great to be with ModelChick again," he wrote. "To sleep with someone I actually have a connection with."

That stung. I have to say, it stung. But, the thing is, I know it's a lie. The night he said he was with Robyn, he was sick and I was at his house the whole time. The night he said he was with ModelChick, he had already told me about and had said that she left early because James showed up at the bar drunk. I don't know why he was lying to the Exhibitionist. I don't know why he wrote those things. But I made a choice to not care. It's not the real him. And besides, I know that he comes with a little pain and baggage... haven't I already decided to accept that until it's over?

He came out of the shower and I hugged him goodbye.

"We've both got to be productive this week," he said.

"Yeah, but I'm going to Florida over the weekend," I reminded him. "Thursday to Sunday."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll see you before then," he said.

(He's probably right. After all, I've spent six of the last ten nights at his place.)

And I left.

I was glad to be going to therapy. It was good to process all of that fast and to let it go.

For the rest of the afternoon yesterday, I finished preparing my class presentation and then went to class. It felt good to be starting the research seminar and to be around other historian-grad students. I think my presentation went well.

I was up late last night, though. I spent forever trying to download Season One of Lost using utorrent (saddened that xtorrent won't work on my laptop), texting Narc for help periodically, only to find that my laptop didn't have enough space for it. Then, after a few hours of frustration, I found that I can watch the episodes in streaming HD on abc.com. At least that worked out...

This morning I went off to vote and then came here to school to teach. Tonight is StarGazer's one year anniversary celebration. I'm going to be out at the diner until midnight.

Well... that's it for now. The good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly.

Non, rien de rien

Non, je ne regrette rien

Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait, ni le mal

Tout ça m'est bien égal

Non, rien de rien

Non, je ne regrette rien

C'est payé, balayé, oublié

Je me fous du passé

Avec mes souvenirs

J'ai allumé le feu

Mes chagrins, mes plaisirs

Je n'ai plus besoin d'eux

Balayés mes amours

Avec leurs trémolos

Balayés pour toujours

Je repars à zéro

Non, rien de rien

Non, je ne regrette rien

Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait, ni le mal

Tout ça m'est bien égal

Non, rien de rien

Non, je ne regrette rien

Car ma vie

Car mes joies

Aujourd'hui

Ça commence avec toi...

Isn't that the truth?

love,

h

Thalassa

Everything is beautiful right now. I just wish that right now could last until forever.

That meeting with my department chair wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. The whole things was rather mild and it was all over in 15 minutes. Phew!

The night before the meeting, I went to bed early-- around midnight. I was emotionally exhausted. I had been crying on the phone with my mom-- difficult feelings about the abortion from way back when. It's strange-- in my first year and a half of sobriety, I didn't cry about anything at all. For some reason, the tears are back. I'm finally starting to feel things. It's like these strange tangled scars that I drank away a few years ago are suddenly throbbing and demanding to be soothed. My mom said it was "okay to cry." She said it was "okay to be sad." I felt a billion times better just letting myself feel something and sharing it with her.

Anyway, at about 2:00 AM my phone rang... three or four times. It was Narc, but I ignored it. (Improvement, n'est pas?). When I checked the messages, it was clear that he was drunk. Very, very, drunk. The messages were practically incoherent. I went back to sleep.

The next morning, I was shocked to get a message from him at 8:45 AM. (What was he doing up??)

Good vibes!! he wrote.

I thought it was so super sweet.

Give call after, he said.

I felt really supported that morning in general. B texted me, my mom called me, Pixie called me, and I had texted about it with VJ the night before. No matter what happened with my department chair, I would be ok. I felt really peaceful. It was an amazing feeling.

Anyway, like I said, the meeting wasn't half as bad as I had anticipated. After the meeting, I ate breakfast in the diner across the street from school while I talked to B and to StarGazer on the phone. I called Narc back, but he didn't pick up. I left him a message informing him that I'd be teaching from 12:00-5:00 PM.

My classes went pretty well. It felt good to be productive and I did some work for my research seminar in between classes. (I had to write a 750 word "intellectual" autobiography. Maybe I'll post it here. It's kind of amusing). And then Narc texted me yet again!

Good luck teaching, give call after, he wrote. That was at around 1:45. At 5:15, I heard from him again. "Still alive?" he asked.

I wrote him back that I was busy but that I could come down to see him after AA.

I was grateful for AA last night. It felt really good. I needed the meeting. Afterwards, I hopped in a cab and headed straight for Narc's building. Typically, when I got there, he wasn't home. I called him right away.

"Oh, you're there already?" he said.

"Um.. yeah. It's 9:00."

"Oh... Well, I'm just a few blocks away getting a bite. I'm at a place called Thalassa," he said.

"K. I'll walk over."

Walking there, I passed Yaffa's. I hadn't been there with Narc since the Summer of 2005. I remembered smoking outside the bar and the Food Emporium across the street. I remembered sitting on a park bench a block away and him pulling my shirt down.

When I got to Thalassa, Narc was sitting at the bar with James, drinking Jack Daniels. Both of them were super scruffy. I thought Narc looked beautiful.

Perfect. He was a perfect man last night.

James kissed me hello and goodbye.

"I was just leaving," he said. "Had a late night last night."

I sat down in his seat.

"It's blue here, like a James Cameron movie," I said.

Narc and I started to chat. He didn't remember calling me the night before. It turns out he was only up before 9:00 AM because he woke up on his couch, fully clothed, and sent me those texts before stumbling into bed until 1:00 PM.

We talked about weight gain and weight loss. We talked about babies (and my depression). We talked about some secret plan he has that can "solve" problems with anxiety and depression forever. (I wanted to ask him why he hasn't implemented it in his own life). We talked about his blog. We talked about alcoholism. We talked about James. It doesn't matter what we were talking about. I only know that I was (am) totally in love with him. I am totally and completely in love. I don't know why that feeling is flooding over me; I don't know what provoked it last night; but those butterflies were back in my stomach. I wanted to tell him about it; I wanted to scream it, but I couldn't. I couldn't say a word.

I ordered bakalao and he got another drink. The food was amazingly good. We talked about his move to LA.

"Am I really going to do it?" he asked. "Am I really going to leave the only place that I've lived in for more than a year?"

"I don't know. It's scary,"I said. "But you're not happy here."

"I have to take a leap sometime," he agreed.

"Besides, NY isn't going anywhere," I said. "You can always come back if you hate it there. But it's worth the risk, right?"

(I hate this. God, how I hate this. "Don't move! Don't leave me!" I want to shout, as loud as I possibly can. Instead I smiled. I have to be supportive. I want him to be happy.)

Narc told me that his dad lives in LA with his stepmother.

"That's great!" I said. "Maybe you can rebuild that relationship."

"I haven't seen him for fifteen years. Maybe we'll meet for a meal, but I don't want any more than that, and I doubt he does either."

I had asked Narc about his parents before-- I know about how they met and a little more than that about his mom, but he rarely mentions his dad. I asked him what his dad looks like, what kind of energy he has. Narc told me that the last time he saw his dad he (Narc) had really long hair-- waist length hair. I absolutely couldn't picture that.

"You have to show me a photo!" I insisted.

"Yeah, sure... I'll see if I can dig one up back at my place."

I loved being there with him. I loved sitting on the bar stool. I loved the way it felt to cross my legs. I loved looking at his face. I loved the way his shirt poked out from underneath his sweater. We shared a fruit plate. He ate with his fingers and refused the fork. I wanted to put my hand on his leg, but I didn't. (I love him, I love him, I love him). I showed him the autobiography I had written for class. He smiled.

"I'm going to miss you," I said, quietly. The tension in my chest was incredible.

"Yeah."

It was as if there was nothing else for him to say. I was suddenly embarrassed.

"By the time I come back, you'll be married with two kids," he said.

"That's not true. I won't. I won't."

(I don't want to be with anyone but you, Narc! Not ever. I love you.)

"Yeah, it is!"

"Are you really going to stay away for so long? Marriage is not in my near future," I smiled. "I think this is the year of the career."

"For both of us then," he agreed.

Then there was silence.

"I'll be back to visit," he said. "Although almost everyone I care about it moving with me... except for you and ModelChick."

"And the Exhibitionist?" I asked.

"Ugh. Not her," he scoffed. "She's out."

"So quickly again?"

"Yeah, she's definitely out."

Then we talked about her for a while and her insanity.

"You better come back," I said. "You better come back and stay with me."

(Please don't leave me! I wanted to cry. For a girl with abandonment issues, this fucking SUCKS!!!)

When we went outside, I smoked a cigarette. Then I smoked another.

"Chain smoking? No good for you Hyde!" he scolded.

"I like to smoke and walk in the cold," I said. "But you're right, I shouldn't."

We talked about LA again. I have a certain fear, running itself on a loop in my mind-- I'm afraid he's going to drink and drive out there.

"I'm gonna get a bike," he said. "A motorcycle, like I had when I rode through England."

"Awesome," I replied. (Don't go! I wanted to scream).

Back at his place, we settled in on the couch. I put my head on his lap. We watched the end of Star Wars, Episode III and then we watched The Celebrity Apprentice. When he talked to me, I had to look up from his lap. He looked beautiful.

"Narc, you have to show me those pictures before we go to sleep," I reminded him.

"Oh yeah! Let me get them now."

He brought a few bundles of photos out of his bedroom. I had never seen them out before. He showed me pictures of his dad, and yes-- pictures of Narc with long hair!! He showed me pictures from the insanely awful car accident he had when he was eighteen. He showed me pictures from his college days--ones I hadn't already seen; and he showed me pictures from his eighth grade graduation. It was the sweetest thing ever. My favorite, most FAVORITE picture, though, was the only one he had of his young childhood-- a picture from his kindergarten graduation. He was an absolute angel. It's the only picture I've ever seen of him in which he doesn't already have that darkness in his eyes. I loved him to death. I wanted to hug the picture. I love that kind of stuff. I was so, so happy in that moment.

Anyway, we got into bed at around 1:30 AM. It felt so good to be with him, pressed up next to him. I don't know what's with me these days. It's like I'm desperately trying to drink it all in because I know that it's ending. And he's being positively sweet... maybe because he knows that it's ending too.

We had sex and it was sweet and beautiful. I wanted to tell him I love him, but again, I just can't. Sometimes I'll trace the letters onto his body, so that I can get it out and not implode or explode. But it's still frustrating.

The funny thing is, after all that love, I had an awful dream about him last night, even as I lay there next to him.

Here's my mini dream-o-meter:

One of my journals is lost-- I don't know where or when I lost it, but in my dream, Narc had it. He told me that he had it in his closet. He and James and I were in some department store. He told me that he was going to blackmail me with it. I knew I had to get back to his apartment first to get it. I raced out of the department store and got a cab. It was such a stressful horrible dream-- so much anxiety! In the cab, I called his doorman and pretended to be his mother. I told the doorman that my "son" was sick and in the hospital and that his friend Hyde would be coming to collect his things, so that they should give me the key. Then, I showed up at the building, got the key, went into his apartment and got the journal. The worst part of my dream came next-- when I was getting out of the elevator, almost having made it, I bumped into Narc, James and his mom. Narc grabbed my wrist and restrained me. He told the doorman to call the police. I woke up in a sweat. Weird, right?

In the morning, Narc told me that he also had a bad dream-- in his dream, someone severed his limbs. We are both sad and slightly disturbed people. I cuddled in closely to him and we had some morning sex. It was nice. We had to get going pretty early, though, because Narc had an appointment for analysis.

We decided to take the subway despite the gross "gray and dreary deary" rain today. It was pouring and chilly, and I got wet in my hooded sweater as we walked towards the subway stop. It was strange-- on the subway, I ended up seated directly across from a man in my AA home group. He's not the kind of man you'd expect me to be friends with-- we are from totally different age groups, races, socio-economic classes, etc. But I greeted him with a big "hello." Narc looked confused. I introduced the two of them, and they shook hands. That's the first time that anyone I know from AA has met Narc (unless, of course, you count Brick).

I had to get off the subway a few stops before him. I got a pedicure, read a few articles for school, got a Subway sandwich and came home. For the rest of the afternoon, I finished polishing up my "biography" and then watched some TV. At 7:00, I met Meema on the Upper East Side for a movie.

We had originally planned to see Atonement, but the projector broke, so we saw Cloverfield instead. It was entertaining, but I didn't really buy it. Afterwards, we went to Models and bought some free-weights and then over to Pinkberry where we talked and talked. We bumped into another girl we're friends with in AA. She joined us for a while. It was nice.

And now I'm home, just blogging and as of a few minutes ago, talking to Chapstick on IM. Narc went to go see a Samuel Beckett play with ModelChick tonight. I wrote him a text: feel like getting married?

Not quite! he said. Out with ModelChick, wrapping soon. Like the movie?

Maybe he'll call me later, maybe not. Either way, I'm going to see Die Walkure with B tomorrow and we're meeting at 11:00 AM. I have to get prepped for five hours of Wagner!! Then I'm going to BigSis' place where we will be joined by my mom and her friend English and we're all going to watch La Vie en Rose, which I absolutely loved.

I'm in mourning right now, but it's sweet. It's sweet because I have something beautiful to mourn.

I'll leave it at that, lest I start to over-think.

love,
h