I Can't Give You Anything

I had my concert tonight. And now I have Tchaikovsky in my head-- a syrupy romantic chorus called Nature and Love (1870), to be exact.

My stomach is full right now. B came to hear my concert and afterwards we ate at Dallas BBQ on 8th street.

I'm in a strange mood right now. I kind of want to write about my weekend, but on the other hand, I'm not much in the mood to write.

I'm not quite sure what to think of the fact that Narc has been around so much lately, that he keeps coming to my apartment, or that I'm feeling less in love with him-- even on some level disgusted with him. I don't think I'm really disgusted with him. I think I'm disgusted with myself.

When I was younger and wildly morbid I used to have suicidal thoughts all the time. On Friday when I took a shower I blasted Showboat on my stereo. That seems to have become a new mini-ritual for me on Fridays-- an early evening bath or shower with some kind of sweeping romantic (and intensely private) music. I was listening to Old Man River. I used to listen to that song and think "yeah-- that's me. I'm 'tired of living but scared of dying.'" But when I heard it this time, I realized that it's just the opposite is true. "I'm tired of dying but scared of living." I think that's why I disgust myself these days.

In any case, he called me on Friday night and I got up out of bed and paid for his cab and went to drink with him. I'm a little disappointed in myself because I had been trying to "tough it out" and stay home that night. I had been feeling anxious and lonely and texted B telling him so.

I know the feeling. And I love my "H" SO!!! he wrote back.

Later, he sent me another text: Huuuggggggggg!!!!!!!!
And then: How's my favorite "H" doing?

I told him that I was still feeling lonely and anxious and awful, and that I had the urge to go out drinking, but that I also felt loved.

Very loved! he wrote. SO! Take it easy and get some rest, okay? You'll be glad tomorrow. I promise.

B was probably right, but Narc called. And out with Narc I went! We decided on Manchester Pub (it was likely not very crowded and Narc insists on a seat at the bar-- a place to "perch," as he puts it). On the way there bumped into an actor-friend of his, right on Second Avenue! Narc introduced me.

"Where are you guys off to?" his friend asked.

"To get drunk," Narc said.

I smiled.

"I haven't seen that guy since my Oscar-party!" Narc commented as we continued on our way.

The Oscar-party that was just a "few" close friends? The Oscar-party to which I was "dis-invited"?

Everything was fine at Manchester. He asked me for cigarettes.

"I don't have any on me," I told him.

He was surprised.

"Why are you so surprised? I don't smoke that much anymore..." I put my hand on my neck. "The voice-- remember?"

He was disappointed.

"Why don't you go buy us some?" I passed him a twenty.

"Are you sure? I'll get you back all the money, Hyde," he said.

"Whatever... You don't have to pay me for the cigarettes. But, to be honest, I was annoyed that you said I owed you money."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean, since when do we keep track of things like that? It's ridiculous! You pay sometimes, I pay sometimes. Since when do I owe you for getting drinks last week?"

"But you--"

"Narc-- if we're gonna start seeing who owes money here, what about when we went the opera and I paid your brunch or in January at Cheers when I paid that huge tab?"

"What, are you keeping track or something?" He looked pissed off.

"No, I'm not keeping track! It's just that both those times you hurt my feelings. With the opera, I got you the ticket so I expected a 'thank you.' And that time at Cheers, do you remember what you said to me? Do you remember what you said? I bought you off a long time ago. That's what you said!"

He looked at me for a moment.

"Okay, you're right. You're right, Hyde. You're right. I'm sorry. It's just... Well, I just called my mom a week and a half ago, and I don't have anything now, so I-- I mean, I guess I was just scrounging around for what I could... But you're right. I don't like being like that with money with friends."

He smiled at me and touched my hair. He put a piece of hair behind my ear in the way that I love.

"Well, okay," I smiled back. "Go get the cigarettes. Do you know where to go?"

"I think I can manage," he said.

When he came back with the cigarettes he told me he saw a couple hail a cab. The man thought he would be joining the woman in the cab, but she jumped in, said good night, closed the door and totally shut him down.

"Was the guy upset?" I asked Narc.

"Nah. He took it like a man."

The rest of the night went on okay. At one point, I said something about when I lived with B.

"Wait-- you guys lived together!?!" he asked. "I didn't know that!"

"Yeah! For two years! 2000-2002."

At another point we had an alarmingly strange conversation in which Narc told me that he doesn't understand why people are so afraid of death.

"I also hate when everyone gets so wrapped up in the whole mystery of things," he said. "It's no mystery. I know what happens when you die. I've been there! I've seen it!"

He was very drunk and was escalating his voice to drown out the objections he anticipated from me.

"Yes, Hyde! I've seen it! I know!"

"Well, maybe people are afraid of death because they'll miss their loved ones and their loved ones will miss them. Even if you believe, as apparently you do, that death is not a permanent end, it's still an end to something."

"Whatever... how much could you miss someone?" he grinned.

"A lot," I said.

This was an increasingly bizarre conversation-- the kind of stupid conversation I should have shrugged off but in which I somehow found myself suddenly invested.

"Hasn't anyone close to you ever died?"

He rolled his eyes at me. "You know the answer to that Hyde!"

"I do?"

"The closest person to me was Sal-- the bartender at the Tavern who died this summer. Remember that? I came to see you and we came here. We were sitting here! Right here!" he said, slapping the bar.

"Well, take it from me then, you can't imagine how much you can miss someone."

I felt sad.

At around 3:00 am I had a text appear from Hammer. (I think she sent it earlier but for some reason it didn't show until then.)

"Tell Hammer she's a wanker!" he said. "Go ahead. Text her that!"

Uh oh. "Wanker-Narc." I needed to cut the drinking.

"You must be gone," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"You said 'wanker.' I think it's time to go home."

When the bill came, it drew attention to the whole "money-issue" again. I'm not sure I remember why (as I was going on six drinks and was tipsy), but Narc got upset at me. We were sitting there on barstools when he hit me in the chest. It wasn't a hard hit or anything, but it upset me. And it was enough for the bartender to come over to us.

"Woah! What's that?" she said. "I think you should cut it."

"Yeah, Narc! Don't treat me like that!" I was angry now. "You can't do things like that!"

"Okay, fine, Hyde. I'm just an awful person then."

"Let's go," I said, putting the tip down and heading towards the door.

He stood on the street outside, swaying back and forth like one of those standing punching bags that kids like to play with.

"I'm just horrible to you."

"You're not horrible, but you can't get rough with me like that when you're drunk! You've done it before and it's not cool."

"Nope, I'm bad, Hyde! Awful, bad, miserable, terrible! Just go! GO! Leave me here and go!"

He was slurring his words and was clearly not about to reason with me.

"I'm not leaving you here. Come on..."

"No! Leave! Go! I'm so awful, you shouldn't be with me. GO!!!"

"Narc! You're really drunk and have no money. We're nowhere near your place. I'm not leaving you here on the street at 3:30 in the morning! Let's go! Let's just go home. I don't want to fight."

After a few more protests, he must have realized that I was right about his predicament, because he allowed me to take his arm and lead him towards my place. He was swaying the whole way and hitting up against building walls. I wasn't really clear-headed myself, so we must have been a sight to see.

When we reached my building, I told him to straighten up at least while we walked past the doorman. He did a reasonably good job of it. Once we were in the elevator, he threw me up against the wall and started kissing me with complete (but sloppy) abandon. And once inside the apartment, it was more of the same, him tearing at my clothes. We started to fool around in the living room, but he couldn't stand very well, and I thought it best to head into the bedroom. He fell on the way there, and I screamed for fear that he had hit his head. He seemed to be okay though. But then in the bedroom, he fell again-- out of the bed and nearly hit his head on my makeup table. I was really worried about him.

He was so out of it, that it was clear that sex wasn't about to happen, and it wasn't long before he passed out. The strange thing came in the morning. When I woke up, his head was at the foot of the bed. How did he make that turn in the night without me noticing? Even stranger, his t-shirt was on the floor near the foot of the bed and it was soaking wet! Nothing else was wet-- not the bed, nor the floor near the shirt. Just the shirt. I picked up the shirt and smelled it. It wasn't urine. So what had happened? A mega-mystery.

Anyway, he gave me a hard time getting him up on Saturday morning. I woke up at around 10:00. B sent me a message early in the morning: Good morning! Rise and shine! Stretch! :) He was still concerned about me from the night before. It was so sweet! I talked to Hammer on the phone while I got dressed and ran across the street to the deli for gatorade, red bull and smart water. I bought one of each for Narc. But he really wouldn't get up!

"Just leave me here to sleep," he murmered. "I'll leave on my own. I won't snoop..."

"I'm not leaving you here," I protested. "So WAKE up! Don't make me miss this train because of you. It's incredibly immature."

I was annoyed. I can't imagine doing to anyone what he was doing to me.

After nearly an hour of concerted effort on my part, he got up. He looked like a bleary-eyed rumpled zombie. I laughed and kissed him to try to make the situation better. He was coughing and sputtering while we waited for the elevator.

"I know... I'm still sick too," I said. "The two of us. Ugh! We should be healthy, vital, energetic young adults, and look at us! Our bodies constantly breaking down."

"I feel La Boheme," he said.

"Che tosse!" I laughed. "Except her cough was from poverty and deprivation. Ours is from excess. We're awful."

I gave Narc $40 and put him in a cab. Then I dashed over to Penn Station.

Like I said in my last post-- I had a wonderful afternoon with my family, largely due to the marked improvements with my stepbrother. It was amazing to see him upright and making the effort to walk. We all sang songs and cheered him on as he twisted, struggled and dragged himself from one room to the other. He was so proud of himself when he arrived. It was amazing. He's still basically half paralyzed, but God willing, he will be able to really move his bad side one of these days.

BigSis now owns a car and is living out in Forest Hills, so on the way back, she offered to give me a ride to the E-train near her place. I agreed and she got me to the subway by 5:45, so I was back in my apartment by 6:30. Narc had texted a few times.

First: Dying...!
And then at around 6:00 pm: Yep. Showered and still dying...
At 6:45: "Over the Top" is on. Woohoo!! When are you back in?
At 7:15: Call when you're in...

This is weird, don't you think? I mean, most of you have been reading here for quite some time now. Narc has always been impossible to get a hold of and slow to respoind. Why is he so present? So clingy these days? Why now? I don't know what to make of it!!! Even thought I was home at 6:30, I didn't call until 10:00. He didn't pick up, so I left him a message.

"Hey Narc... Just saying hi. I'm back. Not sure what I'm doing with my night. I'm kind of tired... Might stay in; might go out. But give me a call when you get this."

After that I just got on the phone with Liu for a while, during which Narc sent me another text: At dinner party now, but probably leaving soon. Can come to your place if you're still up.

Again-- strange! In the past year and half, he's only EVER offered to come to my place if he's already in the neighborhood! I didn't know what to think. I went to Cheers.

Cheers was remarkably empty for a Saturday night. Plus BarMan had the night off. It was a strange vibe. Even so, there were a lot of people there that I knew-- Manwich (who told me that his friend P was asking about me and was disappointed that I never called him), Roman, OldTimer, PreppyGirl, SurgeonGirl, BulgarianGuy and DateRapeGuy's brother (yuck!). IrishBird was hosting karaoke and really needed to get singers up because it was such a slow night. I have an awful cold right now and shouldn't have sang. Even though I didn't want to do it, I agreed to it. My voice cracked on one of the notes and I was SO upset. I take pride in my singing and don't like to do it in public unless I'm reasonably assured that I sound good. Everyone else seemed to think it was good, but it really wasn't.

Anyway, PCuz (so named because he's PumpedUp's cousin) was tending bar and kept the double jack and diets coming. I was getting drunk by myself and still hadn't heard from Narc. He texted me at 12:11: Leaving soon, will head up, but never showed. At 1:00 am I wrote to him again: Where are you??? He arrived at around 1:30.

I was drunk-- drunk enough to have just sang the Moulin Rouge song with SurgeonGirl and wrecked my cords. Narc was not drunk. He said he only had one beer.

"You're not drinking?!?" I asked incredulously.

"No. Last night took care of me..."

"But I feel bad... I'm kind of drunk, and you're not!"

I genuinely felt guilty and afraid... afraid that I would say something or behave in a way that wasn't exactly measured. Upon reflection, it's interesting that I have so much anxiety about that-- it's like I like to be able to gauge everything about him and respond "correctly," but if I'm drunk and he's not, I can't do that. I need some lessons in how to trust people enough to behave naturally. Even when I don't realize I'm doing it, I'm constantly, obsessively and sensitively adapting myself to the signals I get from others.

IrishBird called me to sing I Will Always Love You which I did. I bought Narc a drink and pointed out DateRapeGuy's brother to Narc. I think Narc thought it was weird that I did that. Then we left. I bought him a sandwich at the deli because he was still hungry. Then I got us some red bull for the morning.

Back at my place we watched parts of The Aviator on TV and then went to bed and had sex. Nothing of much note happened... This morning we woke up at around 11:00. He bummed around here while I got dressed for my concert. Then we shared a cab downtown. He got out with me at Washington Square Park and walked me to the church door. It was drizzling on our heads. He didn't come to the concert. Just as well, as the only friend I was expecting was B and that would not have been a good combination.

The concert was a great success. The audience was roaring in laughter at the Shostakovich and I got to crush on the rumbling bass all over again! B winked at me at the start of the concert when I found him in the audience. I told him about my crush on the bass and when he began to sing, I locked eyes with B again and he smiled as if to laugh at me. It was cute. I love having him in my life.

After the concert, I switched into jeans and a dirty t-shirt (my favorite uniform) and I met him in the entrance-way. We ate our dinner and then started walking uptown. We crossed over to Third Avenue by way of 9th street and I showed him the building where my parents first lived together (and where BigSis was conceived!). We walked all the way to Murray Hill and Drippy's street, pausing along the way for some bubble tea (which B and I call "sago"-- its Tagalog name).

Sometimes I miss B and felt angry and resentful towards Drippy. Last year we used to hang out 3-4 days a week for hours on end and have a "sleep-over" at least once a week. Now I get him two days of the week for around 2 hours and that's it. I hate it. Tonight I felt clingy and desperate and a sense of "falling" in my chest when we had to say goodbye. I don't want to put too much on him though. I know it's tough for him to balance my needs with Drippy's, and she IS his girlfriend. They may move in together in a few months and I have really mixed feelings about that. It makes me anxious and I don't really feel like thinking about it right now.

Anyway, that brings me to this moment. In the course of writing this post, I no longer have Tchaikovsky in my head. I've been listening to Judy Garland (who has a sob in her voice that kills me). Right now she's singing "I Can't Give you Anything But Love." Tell me about it...

I can't give you anything...

I can't give you anything...

I can't give you anything but love.