Friday, January 20, 2012

Damaged Good

Friday's are the worst. Especially now, in the evening, I can hear the traffic outside- people rushing home to begin their weekend. But I have nowhere to be and no one to be with... It's the sad story of my life, in some ways, I have always been alone and longing for company.

As a child I would ask for and receive board games for Christmas every year. The kinds of games that were impossible to play by yourself, like: Monopoly, Life, and Risk. It's obvious to me now that I thought that if I had something to offer, surely the players would present themselves for the games. But they never did. Somehow my thinking has never really evolved.

I have had friends over the years. Even whole relationships, but the majority of my life seems to be spent in solitude. A recent ex recently told me that I have a double curse: intelligence and creativity. That somehow these "gifts" are also a curse; because I can entertain myself for long periods of time, which is true but truly useless in the comfort department. I suppose that's why I paint so many portraits. I surround myself with imaginary friends. Famous faces stare back at me from every available inch of my walls. I am the object of their attention and affection. I spent years on a stage, now my audience is my cage.

Just finished reading Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides. I had been leisurely making my way through the last book, wanting to prolong the experience. But it was inevitable that I would finish today. I cried. Several times... Despite that I am happy to be reading novels again. My imagination is sparked and the characters become my companions. I have far too much empathy for this world. Feel too deeply. Fall too often. Perhaps for these reasons it is better for me to be alone.

I try to be optimistic about the future. I long to say yes should opportunity knock. What I know for sure is that even though I am damaged that doesn't mean that I'm not still good.


Holly said...

I love you.

Erik said...

What I want to say was said better (of course) by Mary Oliver:
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.