I love Broadway shows. I love the words, the designs, the music, and the stage so much that I started singing my own melodies to any musical I hear. It makes my heart beat faster. I know that singing doesn’t mean something, but when I stand on the stage of the most gorgeous theater in the most breathtaking city in the world, and try to create the words, the music, the music, and the music, and somehow it all comes together it is a deeply personal experience that is very difficult to explain. I have cried a lot since then, my chest hurts from all the noise. But you have also been there, right? You know the feeling. You want to be there. And I want to be with you. You and I have looked at each other through glass windows and been really close. There is a moment where you know it is about to end, and you are dying and dying, and there is a moment when you feel that you are ready to let go, but then you won’t let go. But that is pretty rare. But we are not alone.
This past week, I have asked myself that question every day and answered it in different ways. There are still things that need to be said, things that need to be felt, and you are a very wise woman. I will always love you. I will always be grateful to you,
The letters got longer and longer until I had nearly 50 letters to read. I carried them across the country, hundreds of miles, all from people I have never met and may never meet. It took six hours to read them, and I am as dizzy as ever from how many my brain can process. I opened one of them and read the first line and got all kind of excited and felt my chest hurt and that I had been kissing the glass ceilings for a long time and were excited to let go. I had the exact same reaction to all of them.
This is not a column about relationships. So please, no marriage advice. This is about recognizing that somebody can look at you with a very positive tone, not dismissing you, and love you as much as they want, and they will love you in a different way than anybody else and you will only understand it when you are with them and watching them because what you experience is very much different than what somebody else experiences. I was with you, for the longest time, and I know it only happened in my eyes.
This is about the notion of marriage and just wanting you to be there. I never asked if you were pregnant; if we would have the children. There were times when I did not see her for a week or two and I wanted to kill myself because I was so embarrassed that the day before she had shown up to our baby shower dressed in a red dress and red platform shoes with a red ribbon in her hair, and I had thought that was a little out of character and I wanted to be that long-lost sister to have her on my side and be there for her and not embarrass her. I did not want to make her uncomfortable. Instead I fell apart. I was mourning and then I told myself that I had to be with her because I loved her so much and knew I would love her for every day of her life, through sickness and through health, through all our warts and foibles, and I needed her to be with me because I was vulnerable and I was fragile and I was sad and I had lost my best friend. She is there for me, my entire life, so we can be together forever and always.
So I read this and thought, “I really love her. I want to live every day with her.” But, I am not going to. I did not need to write that. I can’t, because that one line will never be the last note I play, and you always have to hear that. I did not have to make you wait for your reply, I needed you to know that you were my pride and joy. It is too painful for me to think of how different your life is, how much it feels like you were meant to be. But I did not know how to ask that question; I wrote to you not knowing whether you will be okay, and I did not know if I could hear anything back. I figured, “Oh, he loves me, and he loves you too.” I don’t know that anymore.