One might think that as intelligent as I am that I know a lot of things about a lot of things. To some degree, one would be right. What never fails to amaze me, though, is how much I still don't know.
There are some things I don't mind not knowing. Like when I go into a rehearsal with some ideas, and the director presents other ideas that turn out to work better. I love not knowing those better ideas first, because it means I get to collaborate and learn and grow and expand my horizons.
But I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not talk to you anymore. I don't know how to make myself not want to send you a message asking how you're doing and how your projects are coming along. I don't know how to make myself want to share my exciting news with someone other than you, or, once I have shared the news with everyone but you, to make it feel like I've told everyone I need to tell.
I also didn't know how to be in a friendship/relationship/whatever it was with someone who didn't have the time. I know how to not have time - I'm very good at not having time, which makes me very empathetic towards others who don't have time. But I don't know how to be friends with someone who doesn't have time for me or our friendship. And my need to get out of that situation is what has left me in this current one where I don't know how to deal with the fallout.
I think things were different when I lived in Chicago, too. When I was in Chicago and I had to stop having someone in my life, I was still surrounded by friends who loved me, who would commiserate and get a beer with me, who would reinforce the fact that there are those out there who deem me worthy of spending time with and on. They, whether they knew it or not, would keep me from losing sight of the fact that I know I am worth the time and energy. And while I am still friends with those people, and I am still in touch with them, it's different now that I'm a thousand miles away. Getting a beer and a hug has been replaced with a few text messages. It's lovely and appreciated, but it's not the same. So I find myself a bit lost and confused, and pissed off that I'm lost and confused because I really didn't even know you all that long, and stuck a thousand miles away from my touchstones who usually help me get a grip when I need to talk through all of this crap.
So I'm admitting here that I don't know how to do this. I'm admitting here that I probably screwed it all up because I don't know how to do this right, and that I'm probably still screwing things up by bothering to still be bothered. I'll get past it eventually. I know I will. I always do. Because I am smart and capable and funny and creative and passionate and strong as hell. And, despite the loss and confusion now, I can look back on the whole thing and say I learned some very important lessons about myself. Like maybe I could actually do this, and that there could be someone out there for whom I would want to make the time.
But in the meantime, how are you?