Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Dear Dad,

I sometimes worry that love died with you. Which sounds incredibly dramatic, doesn't it? But you know I used to be a theater kid, so that comes as no surprise. Maybe "love" isn't the right word. Maybe it's more like "connection"? I don't know. I've had the hardest time staying connected to the world around me since you died. Since you were sick, actually. But having you still with me in the world gave me a bit more to hang on to even though I was disconnecting somewhat just to be able to handle everything.

But now? Now it's like this thick glass wall will just spring up between me and everyone else around me. Sometimes I wake up with it there and try to break it down all day. Other times it will suddenly appear in a surprise moment, usually at a bar or a party or some other social function. And it's not like it shows up because I think about you or someone mentions fathers. (Which is a whole other subject and one that I wish I could manage to avoid 150% of the time. It's like everyone's lives are lousy with father stories and anecdotes now.) And it's not like that sense of disconnection was never there. It was there a lot when I was sick as a kid. Or when I was younger and mega-insecure all the time. But it's different now. The whole world is different now. There was The World With Dad. Now there is The World Without Dad. And those worlds are more vastly different than I ever could have imagined.

But back to the love/connection thing. It's something I've been wanting again lately. Which is good being that after the breakup and you being sick and dying I did not want any of that at all even a little, thank you very much. But there's been this...longing, I guess, of late. And I know more than part of it is a longing for you to be alive. To be back. But it seems like some of it is for someone in my life; or at least an attempt at such a situation. Maybe I'm deluding myself though. Maybe it's all about wishing you were here. But I feel like I had better try something else just to make myself feel something again, don't you? Because when I'm not making music or cutting hair it's a little like I'm just floating around in puddle of sad-tinged numbness.

So, puddles and walls. And other dramatic metaphors. I guess I'm saying I want some love in my life. To give and to receive. But I'd totally settle for you just coming back too. You know, in case there was some sort of bargaining to be done.


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