It happened last night. On Friday I had sent N the best “All the Best for New Year’s” email that I could possibly write. She’ll be spending the coming days (I presume with her boy-friend) on a short holiday somewhere on the Eastern Adriatic coast. And I needed to send her off with thoughts that … well, I don’t know … make her not forget me, or something. She was quite struck by it, and herself answered with a beautiful email, which essentially repeated what I knew — that she is torn between her attraction to me, and the life that she has. But saying it in ways that do, in a sense, leave open what might happen when I get there … How can she say anything else? She’s trying hard not to commit “mental adultery” with me from a distance, and not quite succeeding … Now if I only was a cooler guy than I am … Then I probably wouldn’t be feeling for her what I am feeling. So that’s a bit of a moot thought.
Anyway, in the email she sent me a beautiful paragraph that she had discovered about Oscar Wilde’s tombstone, and ended up saying that she wondered what my interpretation of that text would be. And it does actually allow for some quite daring interpretation regarding our “relationship” … Which again makes me ponder why she decided to send just that … Well, last night, I was listening to a song I had just downloaded from iTunes, and then saw her text, and my guitar, and suddenly felt like I had to make music … And within minutes, I had a song (somewhat ripped off from the one I was listening to, but isn’t that how most music is made anyway … ?), which I could actually sing convincingly, and which I recorded on my iPad, and then finished the lyrics over a late dinner, and then kept working on it, and it got me so excited that I actually had trouble sleeping because of it! I wanted to work on my animation stuff this afternoon but I won’t now. I’ll rather redo the recording and make a better one today, on my Mac, with more time and space to do it really well.
In a couple hours, I’m having lunch with Adrian and family – he had been behaving strangely with me in the past months, but I reached out and finally got him on the phone the other day, and found out that there wasn’t really anything between us, and he invited me over for lunch today.
How was Christmas? Not easy. Surprising for me actually how difficult it was for me. I strangely had to keep a certain pace of activities and things to do, in order not to brood too much over N, or the whole situation of having turned 40 and still returning home to the parents for Christmas. But I managed to keep my darkness away from my parents — who are the sweetest people, and who had a nice Christmas, I think. On the 2nd Christmas day, I actually spent some five hours with my father, chronicling the whole crazy story that he had to live through during these past two years, with his construction project. I wanted to get it together because it may be a great story for a TV film. But the nice side effect was that the whole exercise of writing it down really helped my father. He told me repeatedly that it had a cathartic effect on him. And my mother really enjoyed that during the holidays, we watched three films together that she really liked. So I think it was a good Christmas for my parents. And that makes me happy.
I just have to get myself under control … The story with N has gotten a bit out of hand. Like these things tend to do, with me. But what am I to do? I think she is amazing. And she finds me majorly exciting. She just happens to have a boy-friend. Life.
Yesterday afternoon, I went to see my friends An and James. James works as a television producer, I gave him my father’s story, to read, and to let me know if that could be something to work on for TV.