Honestly

I am struggling a little bit in Seattle. With the newness gone, I am now left with everyday life less the excitement of a new adventure. I miss my friends terribly. I miss what feeling of community I used to have, even if it was a community that I was frequently frustrated by. I felt like there was something wrong with me in Minneapolis, a falsely conspicuous history that was going to haunt me until I accepted its accusations or moved. I participated in the latter and chose to escape the wearisome patterns that colored my life.

It is important to admit that many positive things have happened to me since I arrived here. I got a call last weekend from a theater producer who wants me to audition for his show in Portland. I have two willing pianists for a cabaret show. I’ve enjoyed critical success. People have noticed me. I have a show lined up for next spring. I feel good about my acting career.

However, the negative things – namely in the personal sphere – feel so much heavier here. I’m still derailed by men. I met a guy last weekend who I felt something for. Deep within my chest arose a feeling of possibility that I haven’t experienced for well over a year...since the last guy I sincerely dated. Contrary to all expectations, he hasn’t called. I didn’t bother getting his number because I was so confident that his request for mine guaranteed an interaction. I may just be acting stupidly...he could still call, but I can’t be optimistic anymore. I don’t have the energy or the track record to maintain that it’s likely.

Over Thanksgiving, I called my parents to wish them a happy holiday. When my dad put mom on the phone, she could hardly speak to me through her tears. The reality that I wasn’t there was tremendously and unexpectedly painful for her. After all, my brother just got married to a woman whom she feels no connection with, and her younger son moved across country for no apparent reason and was unable to make it home. These memories are cutting.

I feel a certain obligation to be closer to home. My family is not a large one; it consists only of those mentioned in the previous paragraph. No extended family, period. No grandchildren for my parents, no nieces or nephews for me. As much as it pains me to admit, if something happened to either of my parents – or to my brother for that matter – I would feel completely orphaned. In many ways, I regret that I am not closer to them, that I’m incapable of investing the time that some are able to. It makes me feel selfish that I cannot be a regular part of their lives. My relationship with them is subject to airfare. Perhaps my ability to move thousands of miles away stems from my closeted adolescent urge to get the hell out of the house and never look back. Maybe I should rethink this credo.

The point here is I’ve fallen a bit off track. I need to do some analysis and consider what I should do with my life. I have potential here. I have potential anywhere. I have a reasonable and desirable life in Minneapolis. I have family in Kansas (where I’m sure as hell not moving, of course). I have a huge credit card bill for the flight home for Christmas.

One good thing about living in Seattle is that grocery stores sell wine, and there are three markets within a few blocks of my apartment. I know what I’m doing tonight.