entr'acte

It took me 8 years, 1 death, and hundreds of waking moments of wondering to finally synthesize one feeling to one conclusion: 

It was nothing but pure selfishness, and friendship was never part of that process.

I'm currently working on a project in a public coworking space right now, when I finally found that rationalization above about a certain thing in my life, one that has pierced my being from time to time, but one that never kept me down to begin with -- just momentary blindsided. Sort of.

And a thought also popped into my mind just a few moments ago, in connection with a stage play I was trying to write about that realization above -- a play that I penned some 10 years ago or so. This could be a beginning, a teaser, or something else entirely. Maybe something in between, too. Entr'acte. I'm not sure yet. Will decide later.

But this is how it goes:

“It took his death to finally untangle us from one another. Poignant enough, for it took his arrival to bind us together in the first place. And that is where our story began…where it also ended. Onscreen, and off.”

Yes, heartache prompts me to write. That was a huge one, but from a longtime friend, a friend of long ago. Heartaches caused by friends are sometimes more painful for me to feel. Maybe it's because I invested a different kind of value in there, as opposed to the value you invest in a job, your relationship with work, or even a lover or a partner. They have nuances, for me. 

But as I grew older, and more wiser, I realized that those values shift from time to time. And I think that one just shifted, magnanimously, as I sat here, working, thinking of other things, but those things suddenly caught my attention, and let me divert a bit.

So here we are.

I guess that's one less demon who stood up from the couch.

Good riddance, then. Good for me.

Swiped from Stuff No One Told Me.

Back to work, then.