Swansong: Explained

It's been a very emotional week thus far. And I really don't have time right now to detail it all, as it's gray and rainy day, and I have several wigs to prepare for my friends and family. You see-- my sister is having her annual Halloween party tonight and I am arranging wigs for Brick and my mom. I also have to get my own costume together. I have to set my hair in curlers, as I'm going as little Orphan Annie.

Anyway, on to the Narc stuff... He got back into town on Tuesday night. I knew he was here, but we had no contact. Nevertheless, I woke up with a jolt at 4:00 am, and couldn't go back to sleep for nearly an hour. The next afternoon, I lay in bed, the sun setting outside the window, casting marvelous pinks and reds onto my sheets. I finally decided to read his screenplay. It's the screenplay that changed everything. That screenplay was such a gift to me... my moment of grace.

It's impossible for me to explain in brief what it was about or what it told me. But after reading it, I know this-- Narc loves me. He was present for all of those conversations that he pretended meant nothing. I saw them in the script. Narc loves me. But the script was all about being unable to accept love... control... and being locked away in one's own head with false characters, false ideals, laboring for art projects that never fulfill themselves and ultimately ending alone.

The script was about masks, about truth, reality, God... It was really quite incredible. I underestimated him. It was pretty brilliant. There were a lot of references to Hamlet, Becket and Joyce... Lots of the Joyce stuff was lost on me, as it was primarily Ulysses he was referring to and I never read it...

I'll tell you guys more specifically about the script and about my experience reading it another time.

Anyway, I cried as I read it. I cried and I loved him more and more and more with each page. But also, a strange thing started happening... I began to feel more at peace. I can accept this. I can accept this!

The thing I was having trouble doing was writing Narc off as an asshole and wresting myself from the situation with indignation. I don't think he's an asshole. In fact, I love him wholeheartedly. The thing that I was having trouble doing was walking away from all of this thinking it meant nothing to him... that I had misunderstood the whole time... that I must have been projecting my own emotional issues onto him and playing out my own personal script that had nothing to do with him... How could I accept such a thing?

After reading his script, that all changed. He WAS present with me. He DOES love me. He just CAN'T be with me and it's clear-- he's the one that suffers because of it and he knows it.

I felt loved after reading that script. I felt respected. I felt meaningful. I felt like on those terms, I could accept what he was saying to me-- that he simply can't let himself be loved and as sad as it is, I need to move on.

Can I give him that gift? I certainly need to try.

But I was a little bit of a wreck right when I finished-- a ball of emotions, my heart swinging to and fro inside my chest, perilously hanging from a string, smacking against my tightening lungs... my stomach turning with every breath. I texted him. He wrote back. Here's what was said.

Hyde: Vocatus atque non vocatus-- Deus aderit.
Narc: So you read the script at long last?
Hyde: Yes. And I think I understand. And I cried...
Narc: Do you know what the Latin means?
Hyde: Yes-- called or not called, God is everywhere? Something like that?
Narc: "Bidden or unbidden, the Gods are present." Jung had it carved into stone over the entrance to his house. Hope you liked the script... Somebody has to! (grin)...
Hyde: I really loved it. It had quite an impact. Left me feeling sad but strong, kind of... How was the trip? Married yet?
Narc: Engaged. Tell you about it after class tonight.

That last message left an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. All of my limbs felt shaky. What is there to "tell me about"? Unless it's not a real engagement. Unless it really is just for immigration purposes.

I was running late to choir and couldn't dwell on it much longer. I grabbed my folder, made for the door and ran. Luckily it didn't take me too long to get a cab. I haven't been back to choir since May, and was nervous about making a reappearance. I talked to B on the phone on the way up.

When I was nearly there (with about $12 on the meter), I realized that I had forgotten my wallet. I ran out of the house without my purse! I told the driver that he would have to take me home and that I would run up and get some money to pay him. My hands were shaking. I hung up with B and called my therapist. I desperately needed someone to ground me.

I left the cab driver sitting on the street while I raced upstairs for the money. I ended up giving him $25 for absolutely nothing. And I had missed my choir rehearsal at that point! But, I was still on the phone with my therapist trying to work through my feelings.

I remembered that my home group has a Wednesday night meeting that I'd never been to (because I had been going to group on Wednesdays) and that the meeting was only five blocks from my house. Even though I was fifteen minutes late, I ran up there.

I can't even tell you how comforting it was to walk into that room-- it was filled with familiar faces... people who welcome me, who understand how hard this is, who won't judge. It's the first time I really felt "at home" with my home group.

After the meeting, I chatted with a woman I had met on the apple picking trip. I walked her to the bus stop and waited with her until the bus came for her. Then I headed home.

Back at my house, I sat down at my computer, but after ten minutes or so, sitting in my apartment alone in the dark, I started to feel stuck. The walls weren't warm, but ashen. I wanted to drink. I wanted to scream. I wanted to get outside of myself. I wanted to simple move, but I couldn't. I was hungry.

Get up, Hyde. Go get something to eat, I kept telling myself.

But I couldn't.

Get up, Hyde! Get up and go do ANYTHING!

But I couldn't.

I really COULDN'T move out of that chair. I was frozen.

My cell phone lay on the desk nearby. I reached for it, with whatever motivation I could muster and I called my mom.

"Hi, sweetie!" she answered. "What's doing?"

"I can't move, mom," I said. "I need to get up, but I don't feel good and I can't move right now."

I did my best to explain to her what was going on. She stayed on the phone with me until I could get up. She stayed on the phone with me as I walked across the street to the deli to get a bite to eat. She stayed on the phone with me while I ate. And she didn't hang up until I was in a totally different space and ready to go to bed.

I felt incompetent and was beating up on myself for my emotional struggle, but my mom reminded me that I did everything right-- I called my therapist, went to a meeting, connected with an AA woman after the meeting, and called for help when I felt stuck to the chair. When s he said that, I felt better.

I was waiting for things to settle still, though...

That night, Narc never called after his class. I woke up, once again, at 4:00 am in an anxious jolt.

But the next morning, the strangest thing happened. I woke up feeling good. I woke up feeling serene... at peace with myself... with him. I woke up brimming with love for him, but somehow feeling restored. It was incredible. The moment I had been waiting for. I woke up feeling peaceful about "letting go."

I'm not going to get ahead of myself and assume that feeling will last. No... I know it was a rare gift-- one that I have to work to hold on to. But there it was.

I went to check my email shortly after rising, and I had a message from Narc.

Thought this was cute--
http://www.farceofthepenguins.com/
Narc

My translation? I'm thinking of you, but that's all I can say right now.

So, I decided to write back to him honestly.

This thing is taking FOREVER to load. I'm still waiting for it! I know, I know... get a Mac, right?

Anyway, I wanted to tell you again-- I really loved your screenplay. REALLY. It left me pretty shaken up and I was thinking about it all night in my insomnia. You come through so clearly in it and I just wanted to tell you (again!) how much I care about you. Reading it filled me with affection for you. I can't quite put into words the feeling that I have right now, so I don't think I'm going to try. I'll tell you some other time, when the thoughts have formed more coherently. I just love you for you. It gave me a lot to think about.

Anyway, let me know if you want to meet up sometime soon. I still want to go up to the Cloisters if you want to come. And I still want to see Marie Antoinette, despite the bad reviews. So, let me know what's going on with you... please.

that's it for now.

lots of love,
Hyde

I was a little nervous about how forthright I was in my letter, but he responded fairly quickly.

Very, very happy that you liked the piece. Still having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that I spent four years of my life on it--but then, if it moves you-- even one person (even just a little bit), then it's all worth it, neh? (Now all I have to do is actually get the thing MADE, and then I'll really be in business...!) (grin)

Going to see "Marie Antoinette" with the D this weekend, but surely we'll hook up at some point soon. Had my first travel essay writing class last night--good stuff, bright students (if not exactly master writers, at least most of them seem to have a fair grasp of narrative voice), very sharp teacher. Looks like I'm slated to be up next Wednesday, which means my Russia essay (probably going for the full 10,000 words, on this one), is due in on Monday (five days hence)! Much writing ahead of me over the next few days, to be sure...

Talk soon, enjoy the penguins (a porcelain penguin--Ptemkin, from Moscow--has been added to the family here in Casa Narc)

--Narc

In my translation of Narc-language, that says: I love you and I'm glad you see me in this script. But I still can't deal with seeing you right now. I need some time.

After that, I headed off to meet Anxious for lunch. We met at the Mac counter at Macy's. That's always dangerous for a makeup junkie like me! I know I looked beautiful that day... I was just feeling it, and I could feel the jealousy radiating from Anxious. I hate that. Sometimes I feel like she preferred when I was hung over and slouchy and I don't know quite what to do with that. Anyway, she thinks BulgarianGuy has a drinking problem, but we only skirted around the issue. She is so defensive.

After lunch, I went to teach. And after teaching, I sat in my office and re-read portions of the screenplay. Incredible. I sent him another email.

Looking at the script again... this time with a copy of Hamlet and what I remember of Stoppard's play. (Words, words, words...) I also googled and got the Becket references in the beginning. I never really read Joyce though. So... although I can venture an academic's patchworked guess, I'd rather hear it from you-- what ABOUT the Molly Bloom Soliloquy?

Narc, you've impressed me. You are such a gift and it's such a rich piece. I'm really enjoying it. But I am hereby declaring that you have to sit down with me and answer my questions at some point. I'll probably have a lot of them, so we'll wait until I get through it a few times.

I haven't gotten to the end this round yet, and I've got to run to a meeting, but I wanted you to know that yes-- it has moved at least one person.

Good luck with your essay. Glad you like the new class. I'm curious to hear your impressions of Moscow... I didn't like it as much as St. Petersburg, but Bezoukhoff loves it.

Give me a ring when you are out of writing mode, I guess. As for me, I am in good spirits today. Yay!

love,
hyde

(Also, not to be obnoxious, but it's the teacher in me and just in case you are sending this copy out to anyone, I noticed a few typos... Let me know if you want me to point them out).

From there, I headed to an AA meeting and then met Brick for dinner.

Brick ended up staying over at my place Thursday night. My good feelings about everything did not fade. But that night, at around 3:30, I got a text from Narc:

You have to read between the lines.

At some point, around 5:00 am, in a blur and half asleep, I wrote back: I know. I'm trying.

There were a few more texts exchanged yesterday, but I don't want to get into all that now, as I have Halloween preparations to begin. I just wanted to give you an explanation of Thursday's burst of contentment.

Have a fabulous weekend everyone!

:)

h