Night flight

Shouldn’t have done it. Should not have done it.

I went to see “HeartBreakers” tonight. Should have known better. Good movie, but I am way too vulnerable to relationship issues right now, tonight.

Oh, its late. And with sleepiness, I lower my defenses… or maybe I lose sensibility? No, thats cruel, even to myself. I just become more emotionally available. I become sappy. …sorta.

I become a better dancer! Thats it! *chuckling*

*then, sobering* Its not just the fact that Sigorney Weaver and Jenn L-Hewitt are…cute? physically attractive? No, because I’m not “attracted to them” except their characters in the movie… they are… babes! no, thats too crass, and offends my other sensibility. Anyway, its not that anyway….

I know someone just like Ms. Hewitt’s character. They even look similar. I’m sitting in her chair, here at my auxillary office. Her name is R. Now, she is attractive to me; or could be.

But just like the character in the movie, she’s a poser. And it frustrates me to no end. Not just for myself – but for her sake.

I wish she would stop pretending. Stop hiding. Stop being things she doesn’t want to admit to, stop hiding who she really is. I wish she’d be legitimate about herself. Authentic.

And thats such a hard thing to say about anyone. Everyone is who they are at any given moment. The authentic R, right now, is someone who hides. Lies. But, just like the character in the show, she has so much that she doesn’t show, doesn’t let out. Doesnt give a chance. She doesn’t give herself a chance.

And she is attractive. She is slightly insane, slightly bitchy. Very kind and loving when she tries. Very self-concious, when she thinks about it *soft chuckle*…and frequently self-absorbed – which I list as a fault, but I admit is cute.

But she’s not real. Not authentic. She’s trying to hard to be somebody, when she already is somebody, if she’d just stop trying.

I can see it. I can see the spin. When I hover on the fringe and focus, like a tunnel it becomes all too clear, too simple. I could sweep her, the her she is now, off her feet. Its formulaic. And she doesn’t realize it. She is setting herself up for someone, less scrupulous, or less self-aware, than myself to sneak in and capture her.

And then what? How will she continue this act for the rest of her life? She won’t. And either the other guy will end up getting hurt, or, worse…. the guy that swoops in on her is a predator, and he stops pretending first.

Then, then she is doomed to repeat the same brutal pain over again, as from her first marriage and divorce.

*gesture with my hands to dispel the vision* I can’t take that. And, I can’t figure out how to break in on her, help her, without… *sigh* ach, my heart is into this, but my brain is not. I can’t do the math fast enough, not at the moment.

*stepping backward into the dark, bringing my wings around in front of me, like a shroud or a tomb*

She is my friend. She knows this. I have told her that I love her – and she understands the context correctly.

(continued)