I’m supposed to be at the Gerund right now. I’m supposed to be listening to creative, imaginative, emotional individuals speak about personal things (though not exclusively). I’m supposed to be actively working at not ordering a shot and a beer simultaneously and hoping Yosh or Mikey doesn’t ask me if I want both.
Instead I am sitting on my couch trying to catch up on the TV I never get to watch anymore. I am forcing myself to remain on this couch and drink a glass of wine, and I am permitting myself the opportunity to write about the struggle. A part, likely about 50% of me, wants to be there…wants to remain connected to something I think is great…wants to keep up a streak like A-Rod in the early 2000s…wants to get the courage to tweak and play a song I wrote inspired by the opportunity to be supported by that community. The other part of me? Well, that part wants a bit of a break. The emotion that has been coming up the past few weeks is not welcome, and although I went through my weekend of independence and it’s certainly helped, I think part of that help includes taking a step back a bit. Yes, I miss many of the “friends” I’ve made over the last two months, but I also set a precedent by being consistent. I typically showed up, drank my doubles, and stayed late. But my intentions weren’t entirely pure, so I now digress. When I left at 11:30 last week, it felt strange. I felt as though I had to apologize, which I certainly did. By not going at all, I’m giving myself the permission to come or go as I please and I’m hoping this works in serving its purpose because I really do want to go next week, fully costumed.
So I’m saying that I’m doing a lot of opposite action, but really I’m just feeling pulled in two different directions, emotionally. The truth is, very few people will even notice that I’m not there. Truth is, the people who truly matter to me almost definitely won’t. Truth is, I won’t live here forever. Truth is, I need to separate before I get too enmeshed…with the event or any of its amazing people. I spent a portion of my trip back to Worcester practicing asking someone on a date. Tonight I decided if I ever actually used any of those words or indicated even slightly that I wanted a date, I would have to run far and fast in the opposite direction. Stop doing that thing where you want what you can’t have (or keep), Cassandra. Plus, I don’t smoke my Monday cigarette if I’m not there to smoke it, right?
As the soundtrack to last week’s Scandal plays, “it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life…for me. And I’m feelin’ good…”