So, today I was poking through
Shakespeare nodes. I saw
The Tempest. I was reminded of when I was Miranda in December. This was for my school, a
Community College. No big deal, but loads of memories. Thinking of that play led to
thoughts of another play:
Measure for Measure (for some reason my school has a
hard-on for Shakespeare). I was Juliet in that one. I had a huge pregnant belly..
knocked up by Claudio. So I started thinking of the guy who played Claudio. I smiled, because I like him so much. I remembered him talking to me, and how his hands felt on my shoulders. I remembered the way I felt all through rehearsals.
Electricity; a
play! I thought about this guy talking to me in between scenes. The only one who REALLY ever talked to me about any
REAL things. He understood ways about me that nobody there did. We didn't know eachother that
intricately, but he was
plugged into some level that allowed him to see my
landscape. We both understood some
intangible thing about oneanother...I don't know. I liked him best out of everyone in the
cast; out of everyone in any cast that we'd been in together, and there were quite a few. He asked me to dinner once, not as a
date, but as a
bridge. For
conversation. Because he knew there was more to me than was being revealed in our talks in the theater. He knew we could
exchange many more
ideas. I knew too, but I was so
terminally shy that I couldn't accept.
Social phobias or something. Something.. eh.
Anyway, so that's what I was thinking about this morning. This guy.
And tonight I got a phone call telling me he's
dead.
Something to do with his
heart I imagine. He had a
transplant several years ago.
Leukemia before that. He'd fought hard against medical problems for years and years and won everytime. Or, at least, lived everytime. So I'm guessing it had something to do with his heart but I am not sure. Details are
sketchy right now because he only just died this morning.
I should feel something more than I do. My reaction should not be: "Oh.. okay.. I understand, and there is no longer any chance that we might go to dinner."
Maybe my feelings for death were used up when
another died two summers ago. I had actually talked with him about this close friend dying. He was very interested in how it made me
feel. He wanted to know
exactly what it was like to lose someone. Because he'd come close to death so many times, he wanted to know what it was like on the other side. He wanted to know how his family and friends would feel if he died. He wanted me to somehow tell him.
But I couldn't describe it to him because what I felt was so overwhelmingly
everything. Maybe that is why I accept this now so calmly? I ran the
gamut of emotions for
her then and I cannot feel them again for
him or anyone else? I do not
cry and I do not ask
why and I do not think that it isn't
fair and I do not wonder if he can
see me now and I do not
wonder if he knew what was coming and I am not
angry and I am not
shocked and I'm not quite
sad or
guilty or
depressed or
confused and there are no
what ifs in my head.
The only thing I
feel is slight
disgust at my own
inability to feel for this person who I know I love.
But, oh my god. I felt something as I was typing just now. I
remember saying a thing to him as I was leaving the theater one night. "I love you," I said. I remember his
smile and he said, "thank you," and meant it.
So he knew that. So, good.
For that, I feel happy.