putting it out there

I had an interesting dream the other night. I dreamt that I was a successful professional Broadway performer, getting ready for one of my weekly shows. My friends were all around me, milling about and preparing for the night ahead. But something was missing, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I felt angry at something, but nothing was there. No one would believe I was angry and no one could understand how I was feeling. I, myself, didn't really get it.

When I woke up, I replayed the dream over and over, trying to figure out what was missing in my life. Then it hit me - he did not exist. At all. Like, he had never been thought of, conceived, or made. He was simply non-existent. And I was angry at NOTHING.

Amazing.

I realized today, that I had been leaving a huge part of my life out of these blog posts over the last two months. It wasn't an accident, though. I made the conscious decision not to write about my love life because, truthfully, part of me knew it was all going to fall apart. And I didn't want to have a record of any of the good times when I felt like bad times would come so soon after. This has nothing to do with my history and any bitterness I still hold toward those who've hurt me in the past (because sadly, the bitterness is still there). In the beginning, I wasn't pessimistic about any of this at all, actually. But something in me - intuition, maybe? I don't trust it enough - told me I was making the wrong choice, that I would eventually not want to remember it. However, optimism always finds a way to win, and for a while there, I was hoping things would be different this time around, since I was a new person in a brand new city where anything is possible. But reality grounds you, and when you're at the end of it all, you realize what a fool you've been. That's my story, anyway.

So here I am, two months later, single and lonely as ever. Trying to figure out how the hell I'm gonna get past this one because it was a doozy. (Really, who the fuck would do what he did?! Crazy people, surely.) Then, out of nowhere, God or my subconscious or whatever sneaks into my dreams to tell me that I have to let go of my anger because the thing I'm fighting against is no longer there. Alright, I think I can do that. But then what?

I believe in fate, destiny, all that everything-happens-for-a-reason business. It comforts me to know that my trials are serving a greater purpose, beyond the pain, heartache, and disappointment, and leading me toward something incredible. Otherwise, I'd have nothing to live for. But fate is just a small part of the big picture. It requires my trust, faith, and honesty. The truth about New York is once I started being honest with myself about what I wanted out of life, as well as believing that I deserved of all that and could obtain it for myself, everything fell into place. And easier than I would have ever imagined. That being said, I have a request to make of you, Fate:

Please send me someone to love.

I am a good person; I recently covered that one, you can check my archives if you'd like. I am a loving, kind, generous person. I am loyal, honest, sincere. I'm genuine, and I keep it real. I'm passionate, ambitious, idealistic, and optimistic. I can be neurotic at times, but really, it's because I care so much. I remember birthdays, check in on people when they're sick, send letters for no particular reason. I love animals, dogs especially. I like working on crossword puzzles, even though my vocabulary is too limited to get me beyond #7 across. I make up dances to celebrate the serendipity of life, like having the last class on a Friday afternoon cancelled or finding a restaurant that actually has Kool-Aid on the menu.

I believe there are an infinite number of good things in this world and life to experience, and I have been blessed with the opportunity to live through many of them during my short time on this earth. But one I haven't experienced, and am, admittedly, jealous of most people my age because they have, is love. The kind of love that makes you want to stop time or climb a mountain. Love that is overwhelming, awe inspiring. The stuff that makes it difficult to differentiate between fantasy and reality. Magic, in a way. To feel that way about someone and have someone feel that way about me would be my own bit of Heaven on Earth. I like to think I deserve that kind of happiness.

I don't know when you'll find the time to make this happen, Fate. But for now, I'll take it as a sign that both in the last dream I had and the dream you sent me back in February that indicated I would meet someone incredibly important in New York City, I was wearing the exact same outfit. I'll keep track of the clues you leave me here and there, and hopefully I'll find what I'm looking for at the end of this long, tedious, and broken road.

Just putting it out there.