For the past five weeks or so, I have been directing The Laramie Project at the school where I work. The cast and crew are some of the most incredible kids I've ever worked with, genuinely kind and full of compassion, truly committed to the material, and tomorrow night we will open what I think is easily one of the most powerful plays ever written. I could not be more proud of them.
But, even in the middle of all the enthusiasm and excitement surrounding the show, I find myself sad. Heartbreakingly so. Each night, I come home to my sweet dog who I love, crazy though she may be, and we play for a bit, I feed her, we go to bed. I try to sleep but don't always manage it. This is one of the most hectic weeks of the year for me, juggling job and rehearsals. My house is a wreck, Z threw up sometime today so I had to clean that up when I got home, by the time I emptied the dishwasher and reloaded it, I was too tired to do laundry so I took a bath...and promptly fell asleep in it for ten minutes before hauling myself out to go back to rehearsal. And, now home, I'm exhausted but all I want is someone to talk to. I could crawl into bed, but I don't want to just yet because it's so damn lonely.
I have a good life, a full life, a life with friends and family and people who love me, students who make me laugh and think and care more than I ever thought I could. I do. I like being me, but I want to share my life with somebody. I really want to. I want to talk about my day and hear about his, I want to laugh and joke and feel so right next to someone that it never occurs to me to want to be anywhere else. I want companionship, friendship, love, listening, sharing, presence. I want someone here when i come home and am so tired to ask what they can do for me, to care for me, to treat me with kindness and concern. I want that.
I used to think admitting that I wanted all of that would make me seem weak, that somehow I had to just put my head down and do it all by myself and pretend like that was enough because wanting support was weakness. I know now that it isn't. Weakness stems from asking for no help. For trying to do it all on your own. I know I need help, I just don't have any at the moment.
I'm trying to have faith. Hope. I want to believe I'm going to get to have it all. I really do.
This resonates so deeply with me that I felt tears sliding down my cheeks while reading. Not more than a couple of hours ago i was trying to explain this same feeling to my mom...how I yearn to feel connected to another human in such an intimate way again-sharing days and news and laughs and talks about life and dreams and ideas..feeling safe and at home and in the arms of love while while drifting off to sleep. I, too, stay stressfully busy between jobs and school and worries, but I always find the ache throbs a bit harder each time I try to have some down time, an evening alone, some quiet time. I work very hard at talking myself out of the 'if it hasn't happened yet, it probably won't' mentality, but some days it's just more difficult to listen to me than others. Stubborn ol' brain.
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