Saturday, May 19, 2007
Ex Sex
A week before opening and I can honestly say that being in this show is about as much fun as a root canal in hell.
Ooooooooo, yeah. I left the 'husband' for a reason. Why I thought getting back together would be a good idea, I am not sure. "But we have both changed," I thought. Lies, lies, lies. "It wasn't the fault of the marriage itself, but the attitude toward the marriage that was the problem!" Um, wrong again. I asked theatre for a divorce because when we were together, the worst was brought out in me. But then I went out into the world and found it really hard to 'date' all these new career paths that didn't quite fit either. So, alone and frustrated, my ex stumbled back into my life and held out a hand. And having had my heart newly broken, I panicked and fell backwards.
So, here I am. Lying awake in the bed of my ex-husband after some almost-good-but-really-just-a-bit-better-than-mediocre sex and my arm is stuck under his head. My entire body is going numb and I can't sleep. In fact, all I can think is - I shouldn't be here. I don't like who I am when I am with this man. I am whiny and insecure and negative. Here I am with my arm stuck under his arm as he snores away, perfectly content, and all I want is to slowly remove my arm so that he stays sleeping peacefully, get on a midnight ferry back to Vancouver and watch the horizon until he is, once again, a memory.
It has been said that when I bump into conflict, I run away. From relationships, from jobs, from friendships. This isn't all that inaccurate. But I have been married to the stage since I was four years old. And it seems that with theatre, running has been the thing I have been the least successful at accomplishing. It is the dysfunctional partnership that I can not tear myself away from. I love it and I hate it. I ran in 2004 and it sprung me into one of the most beautiful, painful, lost chapters of my life. It launched this Finding Me website and a journey of redefining myself. There has been nothing easy about being lost about what to do for a living, about how to love fully and completely, about who to be if I am not a dancer, singer, actor. But at least I wasn't taking the easy way out. Being back here, backstage pressed up against a brick wall, diminished and serving nothing but my ego, I am doing what is easy. It isn't less painful, just a pain that I am familiar with -- and somehow I let myself rest inside of that. Perhaps I needed to rest. Perhaps.
But now the sun is dawning and I am remembering that Safe is not the solution.
Hardest thing to accept is that now that this bed is made, now that my arm is stuck, I am going to have to lie in it...and under it.
At least until he wakes up.
Ooooooooo, yeah. I left the 'husband' for a reason. Why I thought getting back together would be a good idea, I am not sure. "But we have both changed," I thought. Lies, lies, lies. "It wasn't the fault of the marriage itself, but the attitude toward the marriage that was the problem!" Um, wrong again. I asked theatre for a divorce because when we were together, the worst was brought out in me. But then I went out into the world and found it really hard to 'date' all these new career paths that didn't quite fit either. So, alone and frustrated, my ex stumbled back into my life and held out a hand. And having had my heart newly broken, I panicked and fell backwards.
So, here I am. Lying awake in the bed of my ex-husband after some almost-good-but-really-just-a-bit-better-than-mediocre sex and my arm is stuck under his head. My entire body is going numb and I can't sleep. In fact, all I can think is - I shouldn't be here. I don't like who I am when I am with this man. I am whiny and insecure and negative. Here I am with my arm stuck under his arm as he snores away, perfectly content, and all I want is to slowly remove my arm so that he stays sleeping peacefully, get on a midnight ferry back to Vancouver and watch the horizon until he is, once again, a memory.
It has been said that when I bump into conflict, I run away. From relationships, from jobs, from friendships. This isn't all that inaccurate. But I have been married to the stage since I was four years old. And it seems that with theatre, running has been the thing I have been the least successful at accomplishing. It is the dysfunctional partnership that I can not tear myself away from. I love it and I hate it. I ran in 2004 and it sprung me into one of the most beautiful, painful, lost chapters of my life. It launched this Finding Me website and a journey of redefining myself. There has been nothing easy about being lost about what to do for a living, about how to love fully and completely, about who to be if I am not a dancer, singer, actor. But at least I wasn't taking the easy way out. Being back here, backstage pressed up against a brick wall, diminished and serving nothing but my ego, I am doing what is easy. It isn't less painful, just a pain that I am familiar with -- and somehow I let myself rest inside of that. Perhaps I needed to rest. Perhaps.
But now the sun is dawning and I am remembering that Safe is not the solution.
Hardest thing to accept is that now that this bed is made, now that my arm is stuck, I am going to have to lie in it...and under it.
At least until he wakes up.
« Blog Home