This was supposed to be combined with the post that will come next. But things were getting long and emotional, and no where near finished... So another post will be along today or tomorrow.
----------------------------
On Monday, I wasn't supposed to see Gus. We both had plans. And both sets of plans fell through.
He asked if I wanted to meet him and have dinner and see a movie. I had already eaten, but the movie sounded good.
I met him at a restaurant, where he was finishing a meal. We both sat on the same side of the booth as he ate, and we did some people-watching. Me and Gus. Hanging out. No longer in a play together, so perhaps no longer a "showmance". My heart was warm and cozy.
But Gus said something I didn't know what to do with. He said that the day before (the day that the show closed, and we ended up seeing "Frances Ha"), when I had told him I wished he would go to the cast party, and he had left the theatre without me... before I texted, asking if we could hang out before the party... he said he was angry. Because he told me what he was going to do, and I had wanted him to change his plans. He was perfectly happy skipping the party and going to see that movie by himself, until he talked to me. And then I had made him feel wrong about it. And he said he knew he wasn't going to be able to enjoy the movie. Because he'd be thinking about me.
I'm not sure if that were because he wanted to do right by me. Or because he was upset that I was placing some sort of demand on him. Or something else. Honestly, I think it's the same thing Phil always had trouble with; Gus is used to making plans for himself, and doesn't understand that sometimes his plans affect others. And, in fact, hates that others have opinions on what his plans should be.
I can't fault him for that. He owes me nothing.
I responded by saying that all I really wanted in that moment was to spend a little more time with him. And I had thought I'd be spending time with him at the cast party. But that once I had the good sense to figure out that he was more important to me than the cast party, I wrote to him, asking to be with him. He said that fixed everything.
When we went to the theatre, he handed me a piece of paper. A ticket. He'd already purchased it for me. It was sweet and surprising.
He doesn't have much money. Neither do I. But I got in this habit with Phil of, "I'll get this one, you get the next one." That's where things started with Gus, until one day he apologized, knowing it was his turn, and had said that he wanted so desperately to "be gallant", but that he couldn't afford to be. He seemed embarrassed. Maybe ashamed. But you know me... I don't care. I couldn't care less. (I'm high maintenance in many ways, but not in financially-related ones.) So we just started covering our own costs, or splitting down the middle.
So him buying me that ticket was a slightly bigger deal than it might seem.
We saw "Before Midnight", which is the third movie in a trilogy. And it was really, truly lovely. And we snuggled up in a big theatre with fancy, cushiony, over-reclining seats.
======================
A tangent simply must be inserted here...
Another guy once told me to watch Before Sunrise and Before Sunset, the two movies leading up to Before Midnight.
Bill, in New York.
I can't remember if I ever wrote about Bill. He and I were friends. We met on set last November. And I was sort of aware that he had a crush on me. And, to be completely honest, there was something there. A connection. At that time, I was still very much in love with Phil. And, at the time, I thought the that connection just meant that Bill and I were destined to be very good friends. My relationship blinders were on, and I couldn't fully see what was in front of me.
Bill and I once each drove an hour to meet up for dinner, in the city between where his parents live and where my parents live. I told Phil all about it. It didn't feel like it was supposed to be a date. It just felt like freedom from dealing with my Connecticut life.
Bill invited me to a New Year's Eve party. It was one of three I attended this year. I promised I'd be at party #3 before midnight (HA! I swear I wasn't trying to incorporate the movie title there, but realized I had as soon as I typed it), and Bill was trying so hard -- too hard -- to convince me to stay. It didn't occur to me until I was on the train to party #3 that perhaps, if I had stayed, at midnight Bill might have tried to kiss me. But surely, he knew better... Right?
The last night I was in New York before moving to California, he and I hung out until the very last train was leaving to take me back to Connecticut. And at 1:45am, standing in the middle of Grand Central, he said, "I know perhaps this is something that might make things strange, but I would be remiss if I didn't tell you... Had circumstances been different, the first day I met you, I would've asked you out."
Of course, the first day he met me, I'd already been dating Phil for 2.5 years. I didn't know how to respond to Bill. To say, "I know," would've seemed cruel. To say anything discouraging would have hurt him in what was a brave/vulnerable/kind moment. To say anything encouraging would have been far too romantic, especially as I was to be moving across the country two days later.
So in the moment, what I chose to do, was to repeat part of his sentence: "Had circumstances been different." I left it there, and gave him the longest, truest hug I'd given anyone in a long time.
Because the truth was, had circumstances been different, I could very easily have fallen in love with Bill.
----
I posted a picture on the app "Happier" of my ticket stub. I said the reason it made me happier was that I'd seen two movies in two days. The real reason I posted it -- and I didn't think anyone needed to know this -- was because I loved so much that Gus had bought it for me.
Bill saw the photo and commented on it, saying that he hadn't seen it yet. But the very next night, he sent me a text message. A photo of his own ticket to Before Midnight. Bill, reaching out to me, reminding me that we're still under the same moon.
And in that moment, I remember feeling like I had betrayed Bill somehow... And wishing that I could put Gus and Bill together to form a more perfect man.
========================
After the movie we came back to my place. Not for long. Just to talk. And cuddle, on what Gus says is a very uncomfortable bed. And I did the same thing I always do, and play my "goodbye game," where I try to extend the time we're together as long as possible.
I'm fine being alone. I am. As soon as someone is gone, I pick up my laptop, and retreat again into my solemnity, and I'm quite content. But I hate, hate, hate the moment of separation. I want to keep talking to you. To keep looking at you. To keep holding your hand. To make you want to be with me so much that you forget, even just for a few minutes, that there was something else you wanted to do. And, if I win, maybe you'll just give up and stay.
Eventually, he left. And I stayed. And was fine, if alone. But did wish that I were not, in fact, alone.
And I honestly cannot remember whether it was Monday night after Gus left, or Tuesday night after I hadn't seen him when I started writing the last blog post. I guessed when I posted it that it was Tuesday night, but even when I wrote that I wasn't entirely sure.
--------------------------------------------
To be continued.
~A~
----------------------------
On Monday, I wasn't supposed to see Gus. We both had plans. And both sets of plans fell through.
He asked if I wanted to meet him and have dinner and see a movie. I had already eaten, but the movie sounded good.
I met him at a restaurant, where he was finishing a meal. We both sat on the same side of the booth as he ate, and we did some people-watching. Me and Gus. Hanging out. No longer in a play together, so perhaps no longer a "showmance". My heart was warm and cozy.
But Gus said something I didn't know what to do with. He said that the day before (the day that the show closed, and we ended up seeing "Frances Ha"), when I had told him I wished he would go to the cast party, and he had left the theatre without me... before I texted, asking if we could hang out before the party... he said he was angry. Because he told me what he was going to do, and I had wanted him to change his plans. He was perfectly happy skipping the party and going to see that movie by himself, until he talked to me. And then I had made him feel wrong about it. And he said he knew he wasn't going to be able to enjoy the movie. Because he'd be thinking about me.
I'm not sure if that were because he wanted to do right by me. Or because he was upset that I was placing some sort of demand on him. Or something else. Honestly, I think it's the same thing Phil always had trouble with; Gus is used to making plans for himself, and doesn't understand that sometimes his plans affect others. And, in fact, hates that others have opinions on what his plans should be.
I can't fault him for that. He owes me nothing.
I responded by saying that all I really wanted in that moment was to spend a little more time with him. And I had thought I'd be spending time with him at the cast party. But that once I had the good sense to figure out that he was more important to me than the cast party, I wrote to him, asking to be with him. He said that fixed everything.
When we went to the theatre, he handed me a piece of paper. A ticket. He'd already purchased it for me. It was sweet and surprising.
He doesn't have much money. Neither do I. But I got in this habit with Phil of, "I'll get this one, you get the next one." That's where things started with Gus, until one day he apologized, knowing it was his turn, and had said that he wanted so desperately to "be gallant", but that he couldn't afford to be. He seemed embarrassed. Maybe ashamed. But you know me... I don't care. I couldn't care less. (I'm high maintenance in many ways, but not in financially-related ones.) So we just started covering our own costs, or splitting down the middle.
So him buying me that ticket was a slightly bigger deal than it might seem.
We saw "Before Midnight", which is the third movie in a trilogy. And it was really, truly lovely. And we snuggled up in a big theatre with fancy, cushiony, over-reclining seats.
======================
A tangent simply must be inserted here...
Another guy once told me to watch Before Sunrise and Before Sunset, the two movies leading up to Before Midnight.
Bill, in New York.
I can't remember if I ever wrote about Bill. He and I were friends. We met on set last November. And I was sort of aware that he had a crush on me. And, to be completely honest, there was something there. A connection. At that time, I was still very much in love with Phil. And, at the time, I thought the that connection just meant that Bill and I were destined to be very good friends. My relationship blinders were on, and I couldn't fully see what was in front of me.
Bill and I once each drove an hour to meet up for dinner, in the city between where his parents live and where my parents live. I told Phil all about it. It didn't feel like it was supposed to be a date. It just felt like freedom from dealing with my Connecticut life.
Bill invited me to a New Year's Eve party. It was one of three I attended this year. I promised I'd be at party #3 before midnight (HA! I swear I wasn't trying to incorporate the movie title there, but realized I had as soon as I typed it), and Bill was trying so hard -- too hard -- to convince me to stay. It didn't occur to me until I was on the train to party #3 that perhaps, if I had stayed, at midnight Bill might have tried to kiss me. But surely, he knew better... Right?
The last night I was in New York before moving to California, he and I hung out until the very last train was leaving to take me back to Connecticut. And at 1:45am, standing in the middle of Grand Central, he said, "I know perhaps this is something that might make things strange, but I would be remiss if I didn't tell you... Had circumstances been different, the first day I met you, I would've asked you out."
Of course, the first day he met me, I'd already been dating Phil for 2.5 years. I didn't know how to respond to Bill. To say, "I know," would've seemed cruel. To say anything discouraging would have hurt him in what was a brave/vulnerable/kind moment. To say anything encouraging would have been far too romantic, especially as I was to be moving across the country two days later.
So in the moment, what I chose to do, was to repeat part of his sentence: "Had circumstances been different." I left it there, and gave him the longest, truest hug I'd given anyone in a long time.
Because the truth was, had circumstances been different, I could very easily have fallen in love with Bill.
----
I posted a picture on the app "Happier" of my ticket stub. I said the reason it made me happier was that I'd seen two movies in two days. The real reason I posted it -- and I didn't think anyone needed to know this -- was because I loved so much that Gus had bought it for me.
Bill saw the photo and commented on it, saying that he hadn't seen it yet. But the very next night, he sent me a text message. A photo of his own ticket to Before Midnight. Bill, reaching out to me, reminding me that we're still under the same moon.
And in that moment, I remember feeling like I had betrayed Bill somehow... And wishing that I could put Gus and Bill together to form a more perfect man.
========================
After the movie we came back to my place. Not for long. Just to talk. And cuddle, on what Gus says is a very uncomfortable bed. And I did the same thing I always do, and play my "goodbye game," where I try to extend the time we're together as long as possible.
I'm fine being alone. I am. As soon as someone is gone, I pick up my laptop, and retreat again into my solemnity, and I'm quite content. But I hate, hate, hate the moment of separation. I want to keep talking to you. To keep looking at you. To keep holding your hand. To make you want to be with me so much that you forget, even just for a few minutes, that there was something else you wanted to do. And, if I win, maybe you'll just give up and stay.
Eventually, he left. And I stayed. And was fine, if alone. But did wish that I were not, in fact, alone.
And I honestly cannot remember whether it was Monday night after Gus left, or Tuesday night after I hadn't seen him when I started writing the last blog post. I guessed when I posted it that it was Tuesday night, but even when I wrote that I wasn't entirely sure.
--------------------------------------------
To be continued.
~A~
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