I’ve had the weirdest week. Now, for me, that’s saying something. My week has been all about reconnections. I’ve found people I that I’d lost. I reconnected with people that I thought I’d never hear from again and found out one thing… We can all change peoples lives just by acknowledging something real about them from our past.
I’ll start with the first one. When I was a teenager I my best friends girlfriend and I were close. Not so close that it was a real bond that has stood the test of time but close enough for us to have a few memorable nights. One of those nights, I was sitting in her bedroom and her brother came in. He and I started talking about French and German existentialism because, well, that’s what you do when you’re 15 and want to seem deeper than you really are. It was the only real conversation that he and I had ever really had but at the end of it he gave me a book. It’s called When Nietzsche Wept by Irvin D Yalom. Keep in mind that this was 25 years ago. But through all my purges I’d kept this book. To be honest with you it wasn’t because it was a good read, in fact, I don’t actually remember ever reading it. I kept it because it was something that someone gave (let me borrow) and it had his hand written poetry inside.
I randomly saw this guy pop up on my “You might know this person” on Facebook. So one day I finally decided to send him a friend request. He’d quickly accepted but a few days later had sent me a message asking if we actually knew each other because my name sounded so familiar. You see, there’s another part to this. We both have another mutual friend that is in trouble in this town for his behavior. That’s a story for a bit further down this blog but he wanted to make sure that I wasn’t a “plant” trying to get information out of him about our mutual friend.
I explained to him our history and sent him a picture of the book. He then said, “Please don’t think this is to much and I hope it’s not but I’ve not cried for months, not really. But this – this got me.. in that healing and good and cathartic manner that crying can be”. It was more than the book but it was our history and the fact that I chose to keep it after all these years. I’m not going to lie. It made me cry too. This week has been emotional for so many reasons and this was just one of them. So there we are, two old friends, reliving times that we’d forgotten and having a cathartic cry. Then to top things off, I’d sent him a pic of the poetry that he’d written in all of the pages and all he could do is repeatedly thank me for making his week. I was so touched.
I have to admit that since the hurricane almost a year ago I’ve become much more in touch with my feelings. It’s a weird thing for me. So, so many things have changed for me. I feel like I’m living an entirely different life than this time last year. Mostly, it’s all happening in randomness. Which leads me to my second and most amazing story.
You all know, here, how much I LOVE music and how much it means to me. Every about it. Well 23 years ago I sat in a music recording studio with four boys. Yes, we were all basically kids. The producer that was there, I have always admired, appreciated and looked for. I wasn’t like, crazy stalker-girl or anything but I’d occasionally do some random searching for his name but never came up with anything. I never assumed he’d remember some “groupie” girl that was just in the background. I always knew this experience would always mean more to me than it did to him but it was and has always been so important to me to tell him how much he meant to me.
Well, on one of my “I’m bored, lets search” searches I came across his name. I’d emailed him and asked if he was the owner of a studio in Houston years ago and to my excitement he replied with an enthusiastic “Yes!”. So, remember when I told you that this week had been emotional… I instantly cried. Like tears streaming down, excited and nostalgic balling. I’d decided to go through my old photos, which were thankfully saved from flood waters. I was remember all our conversations and to my surprise and delight the producer had said he’d remember me and gave me his phone number to call him over the weekend.
After a bit of miscommunication trying to get one another we finally were on the phone this afternoon and reminiscing. He’d said that out of all the people that came in his studio with that band he remembered the bass player and me the most fondly and he’d always assumed we’d be the one’s the “make it”. I kept saying, “Are you sure you’re thinking of the right girl” and to my surprise not only did he describe me but recited one of the most prolific conversations I’ve ever had with anyone which we’d had while sitting on the steps of a local bar which has since been closed. He’d said that he was telling his hair dresser about me today and she asked him if he’d been “good”. His reply shocked me. He said that he told her, “It’s weird, yes I was good but I knew that she was only 16/17 at the time and all I could think of was how great our conversations were. He’d admitted that he felt awkward back then being able to talk to me the way he did.
Don’t miss understand, our conversations were never anything sexual and there were no sexual overtones either. But he said he had to keep reminding himself of my age. Now, he’s invited me to come stay with him in the northeast where he lives. I’d realized quickly that NOW he realized I’m much old and our conversations were still flowing after a 23 year sabbatical from each other. He’d asked if I was single so my assumption that nothing is off limits now is a bit more realistic.
The best part though was hearing about his past, after the band. Where he’s been. What he’s done. I’d told him that I often tell his teachings to others. I love telling people about him because he was one of the few adult figures in my life that I truly respected and taught me as if I was his equal even though he knew and knows far more than I’ll ever be able to comprehend. But, as I’m telling him the story that I, so often repeat to others, he’s just on the other end of the phone saying, “Wow, yes! Yes! That’s it. You remember. Wow.”.
I finalized the conversation by telling him that I just wanted to make sure he knew that he was, is and has been a mentor of mine for 23 years. I wanted to thank him for that and tell him that I am blessed to have known him. We traded more contact information and he’s sending me some of the bands history.
I don’t know that I’ll ever actually take him up on his offer to come stay with him, although tempting, I am blown away with the impression that he had of me back then. I always assumed that he just thought of me as some kid but no he never did. In fact, he thought of me much more fondly that I’d ever expect. I know of all the people that touch my lives and yet, for some reason, I’m always shocked when it goes the other direction.
Relationships are NEVER coincidence. There is always a purpose. I say that a lot but I realize that now more than ever. I think that’s why I was so drawn to the drummer. I always thought that there was some other purpose for us to “find” each other. I’m, of course, desperately sexually attracted to him but it has to be more than that. I can’t have him like that and because I won’t cross those boundaries I’ve made a pact with my friend to not go see the band for a very long time. He’d said that he was drawn to me and that we had chemistry and that when he’s around me he wants to, or does things that he’s not supposed to do so I’ve made it easy by staying away so he’s not put in the position to be bad.
My point is, I think part of the reason we found each other was to fulfill a need in me to be around a great and brilliant musician. While I met him in a cover band, I’ve seen his work as an original artist and good. Great even. I actually told him once, “For me, watching you play the drums is like watching an erotic porn”. I meant every word of that too. But it’s hard to believe that our story is over. It’s hard to believe that he will no longer be a character in my storybook. Watching him, watching the band and being friends with them brought me back to so much of my younger years and so maybe he was just placed in my story so that I can have nostalgia flashbacks. Who knows?!
The friend and I were actually placed back into each others lives again. This times it’s different though. His heart is broken and he needs a friend. This time, I’m there as a FRIEND completely. We actually talk now and, hopefully, listen to each other. I realized, as he’s telling me about his heartbreak, that all I wanted for him to be happy. Before, all I wanted was for him to be happy, with me. Things with us are probably how they always should have been if my “feelings” didn’t get in the way. I have always wanted him to succeed though and I’m glad that he’d found someone that helped him do that. I’d always thought it would have been me that helped him but after years of systematic masochistic abuse on both our parts I released him and the power he had over me. I released my attachment to him completely. He and I will never be more than what we are right now but what we are right now is so much better than anything we’d been in the past.
So tonight, I am blessed and thankful for re-uniting with old friends. Getting to hear how I influence them and being able to tell them how much I appreciate them. If you have someone in your life that you appreciate make sure that today, you tell them. It never hurts to give someone a compliment and that is one huge compliment.