I don’t compare myself to other people a lot. Or at least I don’t consider it comparison. But I observe almost everything. And I think. A lot. I remember when I was younger saying, “I think, hope and love too much.” I think I still do. But I find myself processing my observations and wondering what they mean about me.
I was supposed to be going to New York in two weeks to sing at Carnegie Hall. At first announcement it would be covered by grants. As time went by it would not and I have no money. I hate hearing about this trip to New York because I will not be going. I don’t want to know. Just don’t tell me. And please quit asking if I’m going. Another friend is going next week. Another is there now. I don’t understand. I get the logic. No money, no trip. But I don’t get the reason behind no money. Why life is what it is, why I’m here. A distant friend died last week and in the email I got it said he fulfilled his dream of singing at Carnegie Hall last year. I almost screamed. WTF!
I look at the lives of the friends I grew up with, what they’re doing. Some of them have totally bombed but most of the people I was close to in dance and theater are still in dance and theater. The musicians are musicians. They’re doing what they love. But I’m not. I guess you could call that comparison, but I don’t want to be like them. I just want to be doing what I love.
I don’t know how I got here or why. I didn’t wake up one day and choose this. But I can’t change it. And it’s dangerous to try. I’m know on a journey towards something. I just don’t know what.
There are people who are very special to me whom I barely know and try very hard not to freak out with my interest. It’s not socially acceptable to be completely intrigued by someone and communicate it. The words that come to mind are obsessed and stalker. But I’m not a stalker. It’s a way of life. It works like this.
At any given time, I need to have at least one all-perfect person. I know this person is not really perfect, but to me they’re pretty close. I find them interesting. They make me think. There is just something about them that is special. And they like me back. I hang out around this person. Not usually with them. I try not to bother them too much. But I help them as best I can and they help me back, sometimes. Just knowing I have this person in my life makes me feel safe. Being near them helps me feel calm. I need this person, would do anything for them. It’s not romantic. They’re usually like a mentor or teacher or counselor type person. Sometimes just someone I look up to. Everything revolves around them. But like I said, they’re not really perfect. And eventually something happens. They make me angry or I make them angry and they die or leave or move and I lose them and my whole world falls apart. And I have nothing until I find another.
It’s a twisted system, I know. I’m really trying to make it different. But I did not have a cloth monkey. I don’t understand how it’s supposed to work. That cloth monkey study is something I think about often. There is such a need…
I’m constantly scared of losing people. People I don’t really have. I need them. I need the fantasy. I really just need.
© Michelle Routhieaux 2010