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"Dig"

We all have a weakness
But some of ours are easier to identify.
Look me in the eye
And ask for forgiveness;
We'll make a pact to never speak that word again
Yes you are my friend.
We all have something that digs at us,
At least we dig each other
So when weakness turns my ego up
I know you'll count on the me from yesterday
If I turn into another
Dig me up from under what is covering
The better part of me
Sing this song
Remind me that we'll always have each other
When everything else is gone.
We all have a sickness
That cleverly attaches and multiplies
No matter how hard we try.
We all have someone that digs at us,
At least we dig each other
So when sickness turns my ego up
I know you'll act as a clever medicine.
If I turn into another
Dig me up from under what is covering
The better part of me.
Sing this song!
Remind me that we'll always have each other
When everything else is gone.
Oh each other....
When everything
Else is gone.

Well, I had first dress rehearsal last night, and it was so painful. Not just because the dress I wore was so totally uncomfortable that I felt like I was having the circulation cut off from elbows down, but also because of, well, you guessed it, @#$%&.
That man can drive me crazy. And it doesn’t help that he projects like no one else I know, and I happen to be a person who is overly sensitive to projections. So we’re having a relatively good time last night, disregarding our uncomfortably tight costumes and awesomely bad hair. His would look good if it wasn’t so curly, at least, it would be in that style. Otherwise, I love his curly hair, it’s hard to resist not touching it. Why does he have to be so damn perfect for me?
Anyway, afterwards, we’re all waiting on notes, although its already after ten o’clock and we’re all tired. I notice Cody just standing there, and he hasn’t been doing too well lately, and he’s also a big projector. So I’m being bombarded with his upset, and I ask him again, as I did on Friday, if there was anything that he wanted to talk about. He says no, and I remind him again that I am a very good listener, and how it always helps that you at least get your problems out there. No, I can’t help him solve them, but hey, everyone needs a listener.
He sits next to me, and tells me, “I’m going to sit next to @#$%& when he gets here, because I think he needs it.”
I ask him why, and he tells me it’s not really his place to say. I let the matter go, and in comes @#$%& who sits next to Cody only a seat away from me. All of a sudden I am hit with this overwhelming sadness, and it instantly drives down my good mood. Actually, it utterly destroys it, and all I’m doing is sitting there.
I watch him as he puts his face in his hands and cries, actually cries, sobs even. I can’t help but an absorber, and added to the fact that I genuinely care about this man and am on my period, I am so close to crying I don’t know what to do.
I am torn between just sitting there and going to him, and holding him. But I sit there, because I know he’s got a girlfriend, and that’s her job. As much as I hate to admit it, it is her place to do it.
So I wait. I wait for the end of notes, which don’t end until after midnight. I am so tired, and now (after all my ministrations over the weekend) am once again completely torn up inside. He’s upset, he’s crying dammit, and I can’t do what I’m drawn to do. No one hurts my friends, and that goes for anyone, friends and family, I am a protector of those I love….
Maybe I love him…
Maybe I don’t…
I ask him as we’re leaving if everything is okay, and he tells me that he was kicked out of his house in Independence. His mother kicked him out of the house. This, I feel, is so unfair, I automatically don’t like his mother. I hate her with the same intensity that I hate his girlfriend (and yes, this does make me still feel like a monster, thanks for asking).
I hug him once, and I tell him how unfair this is, and he says it’s just life. I draw back from him, walk a few steps, then turn around and say, “It doesn’t need to be.”
I hug Trevor and I leave to go to Jewelia’s to pick up my burrito and my sweaters. I see Frank while I’m sitting outside talking to her, and we have a yelling match over who was a b***h and who was a d**k. Oh yeah, with @#$%& sitting in the passenger’s seat. That’s not weird at all.
I can’t help this feeling anymore. I want to tell him so bad how I feel, but he’s got a damn girlfriend and it would be so uncomfortable (I didn’t use awkward because it’s a word that accurately describes the past five days, and I don’t really want it to. So I’m changing up the words a little, using different ones because yeah, it is kinda irritating using the same word over and over again.).
I want to tell him, but what use would it be to have these feelings and him know, especially when things would more than just likely change between us as friends.
And for as much as I care about him, as much as I want him, all of him, I don’t want to risk our friendship for anything in the world.
In fact, with that way that I act around him, he may have already drawn this inference himself and already knows. But I won’t inflate his ego and drive him away by telling him, “Oh yes, @#$%&, you are right. You are completely right. I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do with myself.”
Sure. And next I will- oh my God, I wrote that I loved him. Isn’t that like a jinx, like when you tattoo someone’s name on your body? Maybe this will break it.
Or maybe not, because yes, I have tried this before, and it doesn’t work all the time. Eh, whatever.