With E home on a rare Saturday morning, Bug and I had to restructure our bagel time, so we ate breakfast around noon and then I took to her to one of my favorite quiet spots along the mighty Hudson. She knows she needs to get out of her chair more, and of course, I have places like this coming out of my ears ...
After a quick stop home to shower and grab my drum, I picked The Muse up at 630. After seeing / hearing just one and a half tunes last Friday, she really wanted to experience a full gig. We got to the 'Seed a little before showtime, and she sat right in the front, and I played for her all night. She cried and smiled in all the right places, and connected really sweetly with BA afterwards, and despite the low attendance, I couldn't have been happier.
It was really nice to have her in the car with me after the show, as that is when I am always at my loneliest. The jazz hands have come off. The crowd has gone home. And it's just me, simultaneously happy to not be in character anymore, and counting down to when I get to do it again. With her there, it was different, though. I already knew I could talk to her about anything. But to have her understand these complexities ... just ... wow.
We went to the PQ for dinner, like we do, and though we didn't get the corner booth, we dove deep deep deep as always. Suddenly it was midnight, and we said all the things, and just like last week, and every other time, we didn't want it to end, and we listened to Sigur Ros in silence on the way home and we didn't want it to end, and we hugged and hugged and I drove off because what else could I do?
This is why people turn their hearts off, why they go numb. Because to feel so deeply is stupid, and it hurts. And I'm a poet, so I have no other choice. Dammit.
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