No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2002-11-17 - 1:12 a.m.

A moment of terrifying honesty with ShyGirl

Last night's show was iffy. We had fun, but we were sloppy. Herr Director read us the riot act. Tonight's show was much better and he thanked us for the improvement. Frankly I'm getting tired of some of his crap. He told us that he's not holding auditions for the next show. He's just inviting the cast. And he's not inviting any of the current cast. Ostensibly because he thinks we need a break. Which for me is true, no question. I wasn't going to do the next show anyplace. I'll need some time to get over my bitterness at being left off the poster.

Tomorrow I'm spending all day on the film shoot. Which means I should be asleep right now. Soon.


Okay, once again, let's get to the stuff I'm really dying to talk about.

After Thursday's weirdness, I saw ShyGirl last night. She was at The Bar. Things were still kind of weird. She was very tired, and still very depressed. I was awkward. Still and all, for a moment or two we clicked again like we used to. You know those moments? When you're smiling at each other across five intervening people, and you can make each other laugh just with stupid winks and silly looks? Those. Those moments that reminded me that, yes, I do like her. That, yes, there is some connection, when it's not lost in me being confused.

Anyway, I got the same piece of advice in the past couple of days from BigSis and CG. The advise was this: Tell her how I feel. Pretty obvious, really, but not something I'm the best at. Well and good.

Anyway, I called her up today. She was in the midst of a conversation with her Ex. Crying. Ugly situation. I hung up and went back to ironing. She called back not too much later, still very upset. We talked, and I tried to avoid stupid platitudes, and still comfort her as best as I could. She read me a poem over the phone. (Ummmm...swoon much? Yes, thank you, I will.) Finally, once she sounded like she was feeling better, I hemmed and hawed for a bit, then I took the plunge.

I told her that I like her a lot, and that if circumstances were different that I would ask her out. I told her that I want to be her friend, and that I have no agendas, or expectations, or pressure. I told her that I am there for her, and I am willing to wait. I told her that she's not in a good place right now, and I recognize that, and that I wouldn't be willing to start a relationship with her right now, because she's not ready for it.

I told her that I just had to tell her, for the sake of honesty, and forthrightness, and having no hidden agendas, and explaining my recent weirdness, and maintaining my sanity.

She told me that she knew how much courage it took me to say what I did.

She told me to take a deep breath.

She told me that she thought I was unsure if Thursday was a date, that she'd noticed my awkwardness, and understood where it was coming from.

She told me that she appreciates my honesty.

She told me that it felt good to hear that she was liked and wanted.


She told me that she likes me too, that she has liked me since we met, that for her also, if circumstances were different...

She told me that she wanted a hug right then.


We'll be seeing more of each other. Trying out the friend thing. Being patient. Seeing what happens.

I still don't entirely know what's up, but I feel a lot better than I did.

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