I did not know why he was distant. I always felt that he was not telling me the whole story. As an adult I look back at my life. The things I did and the people I hurt, the people I loved and lost. Life is so fragile, so fleeting. We are here and then we are gone and you don’t always get to say goodbye.
I met him for lunch with the director and producer of the play I would see that day. He bought me chicken and I stole the lead actress’s fries. The show was about to start in an hour and he asked me to go for a walk with him. Just 30 minutes he said.
We walked to Astor Place from 2nd and 2nd in Manhattan. The story begun light, he told about his first love. In his adolescence he had loved a man. A man he would later lose. As the story turned of loss he began to choke, tears ran down his face. That’s when he told me he had not been honest with me.
We met on Memorial Day. We were talking and then we were kissing. I didn’t know his heart belonged to another. Another with the same mine as my own. That’s when I learned the man he loved he had lost as well. In August he died this year, like the first love it was sudden. It all made sense now. The distance, the confusion. I thought he was just trying to keep me categorized and on the shelf.
He leaned on me and wept. That’s when he first told me he loved me. It had been many years that a man had told me he loved me. Loved me romantically.
This is not the first time Someone would love me after loosing a lover. When I was 18 I met a man who had a boyfriend with the same mine as me just like this time. He had blown his brains out years before. Like me he was also bipolar and like me he was lost, confused and depressed.
Earlier this year I decided to change the way i functioned. I added an antidepressant to my med regimen and it took some time to adjust but I did and then slowly but surely I began feeling better, I began thinking clearly. Sure I have my moments of repeating bad behavior but It’s not long-lasting and I always try again the next day, better than yesterday.
The people come to me. I stopped seeking friends and companions. They saw me, they are attracted to me. Unique and special, like snow flakes. Delicate and fragile. Perfection as they fall into my life and as the snow falls to the ground it does not melt. It stays there, it builds till you have to shovel it away. I keep my snow flakes in mind as they come and go. As they are born and eventually melt.
I went to the play. It was intense and the concept revolved around 2 weddings, a sudden death and a family that coped with the un imaginable. As a crime opens the play it closes it with a kindness. With forgiveness and a second chance. The victim forgives and the thief wants to be better. We are not whole unless we forgive, unless we love.
I do not know how much time I have on this planet, in this universe. From conception to birth, child hood to adult hood. Do we lose our innocence? Do we retain our sanity? In a world that humans are destroying and things don’t make sense anymore. As creativity reflects our culture. Movies, TV and plays are a mirror to the world consciousness and I’m left wondering who we are and where we are going.
He told me he could not be in relationship and I replied all we’ve ever had been in was a friendship and that I loved him too and I was not going anywhere, I cried with him as I held him in my arms I kissed him before he went to work before had to refrain his emotions and I knew nothing would ever be the same.