3 posts from June 2009

The title of this post is important because, not only is it a reoccuring theme, but without my glasses I can pretty much only see blobby figures and guess at who's who.

For breakfast I had two Immodiums. My stomach turned the entire time and the last thing I wanted was to have explosive diarrhea in front of Trent. I brought an extra blister pack of them with me just in case as well.

In fact, I remembered everything I was supposed to except my glasses. Know why? I didn't put them on my list. I figured I would easily remember needing the ability to SEE but I didn't. I didn't remember them until we were there and I was waiting out amongst the crowd and wondered "Why is everyone so blurry? ... ... ... Fuuuuuuck!"

Apparently Jeff was there, who was one of the heros at the Philly show. I couldn't see him not only because I had no eyes but also because I'm so fucking small and couldn't see over anyone. Vic said he blew me a kiss. So Jeff... *kissies back* I'm just too small.

I'm sure I looked like a tool outside, shivering with my hot pink fuzzy muppet-looking blanket and squinting at everyone. But I don't care. I was freezing. I also was still trying to not shit my pants.

The wait outside was suprisingly calming. Nothing was happening. It was cold. Hundreds of others were all in the same boat. It helped my nerves.

It seemed to take forever to get inside the warm but let me just say... Wasn't the woman checking everyone in and organizing simply the best?? I love her! Kudos to you, organizer lady whose name I didn't get.

Once inside panic hit and I probably said "oh my god" 45 times. I bitched about not being able to see some more. Then I decided it's probably for the best that I can't clearly see him so I don't freak out. I felt as if I'll vomit at any moment and my heart was leaping.

One group went before us and when it was our turn I said to Vic "I can't do this". He told me how I'll be fine. We enter the room and there's a maroon/red curtain and I know he's just beyond it. I breath. I take a moment. It doesn't help.

We turn the corner and there he is at this black table. Relaxed. I say to Vic again how I can't do this. He puts his hand on my shoulder and says "Yes you can. Come on." As we're moving he's encouraging me because I keep hesitating. Lots of "You're okay. You're doing just fine. You're alright."

Robin was first and I apologized to him because I had nothing for him to sign. He was amazingly kind, grabbed my hand and said it's nice to meet me. Small talk happened that I don't entirely remember. I know I told him and Justin that this was my 10th show.

Let me quickly interrupt myself and say how awesome Justin and Robin both are. I was a complete mess and the two of them with their calming energy and smiles and laughs helped greatly. I mean GREATLY. Had Trent been first, I don't know that I would have been able to speak.

Trent had finished speaking with the person before me and looked at me. I breathed and said "Hi Trent" calmly, without a studder or high squeal. Vic handed him my copy of TDS that I had since I'm 15. I asked him "Is it possible for you to hug me?"

I chose those words carefully. For HIM to hug ME. The reason is, because of my SMA I do not have the ability to lift my arms to hug him back. It's a fairly obvious thing once you meet me but I still wanted him to be aware, even if in a roundabout way, that this would be a physically one sided hug on his part but not without the connection that only hugs have.

He replied "Absolutely (or sure, or no problem, something). I'll just come around."

He proceeded to sign my CD, carefully, in no hurry. Vic leaned over to him and said "She doesn't want me to tell you this but your music... " and I didn't quite hear what else he said because I was "nonononono"ing too much. Trent smiled, along with Justin, and I said "That just sounds dorky. *smile* No. I just wanted to thank you for all you've done."

He slid my CD towards Vic and got up and walked around the table to me. This blobby figure (I forgot my glasses!!) headed right towards me and he became clearer and clearer. I suspect I probably just had a silly smile. I don't really know.

He opened his arms wide, bent down and swallowed my small frame in his arms. There was no more me because I was inside him and his puffy jacket. He squeezed me tightly, tighter than I expected and I let out a little squeek/sigh/happy sound of sorts. I don't know what it was exactly but it wasn't an embarrassing noise, thankfully.

He held on to me much longer than the average hug. This was a good 5 seconds of connection, all on his part since he did the physical labor of the hug. Vic tried to snap a photo of it but didn't capture the full-on hug, just the lean-in.

I breathed it in. My head was right in that moment and not worrying about a single thing. The feeling of his squeeze, being ingulfed by him, his breathing, the connection, the love. It was absolutely the best hug of my entire life.

He let go and I thanked him again. I think he thanked me as well but I can't remember. I looked straight and there was Vic and I went right over to him (forgetting about Ilan). Vic wrapped me in his arms and I started to shake. Tears came but never flowed down. Vic teared up, having just witnessed my greatest moment.

We watched him sign and shake hands with the rest of the group. There were no hugs during it. I was the only one. It was then that I realized I forgot about Ilan and felt terrible for it. They really should keep Trent on the end so that doesn't happen to the poor kid again.

It was the most relaxed, chill room. People spoke softly when they were done and took photos respectfully from the side while he signed.

When he finished I hear my name. I was behind the crowd at this point. People parted and I saw Brett, who remembered me from Philly. I got a photo with him. Apparently I was beckoned because I'm to be in the middle of the group photo. Trent stands, walks on front of me, we smile and he stands to my right. I hear his low voice speaking to others around him. I wasn't looking at him at all. I was looking towards Brett who had the camera. Suddenly this soft, low monotone voice hovered right by my ear says "Can I put my hand on your shoulder?" I think Duh, yeah but I say "Yeah, sure."

With his hand on my shoulder I try not to shake. I get all super fucking Eckhart and live this moment just as I did his hug. I smile for the camera but all of my focus is on his hand. His hand on me. His finger twitched. There was no squeezing. I just smiled like a douchebag (and I look EVIL from the red eye that won't go away!).

Photo taken and people are to file out. A lot are stopping to hug him and I can see none are as long as mine. I'm sure they all have the same connection though. As he hugs, he looks at me over someone's shoulder. I say "Thank you, Trent" and a nod and smirk from him. And out I went, thanking Brett and Leo on the way.

Soundcheck was just as everyone says soundcheck goes. They only did two songs because "there was too much hugging and not enough soundchecking". I was front and center because of the kindness of a redheaded woman in a corset.

After, we filed out and I told coordinater lady what a fantastic job she has done. She really was amazing with everyone.

I wait in the lobby while Vic goes over to will call to pick up the free twitter tickets I won. I anxiously wait for Bean, Dee and Gregg to arrive because they have my glasses. When they arrive, I experience the glory of being able to see again. Hugs all around. The story above is relived. The teenager complains about food, thus removing me from my moment.

I will not relive the show. Plenty of others can do that for me.

This morning, I admit, my back is a little sore. Whether it was from his squeeze or not, I do not know. It's a pain I'm happily taking though.

I said to Vic, "I can die now."

As far as I can see, all of my goals have been reached. It's sad, sure, but also SO satisfying to know that I could die tomorrow and everything has been accomplished. As of now, there is no unfinished business.

In this moment there's complete peace.

I don't often look in the mirror. I mean, I see myself but I don't really look.

As I was preparing to apply the ritual eyeliner for the event today, I stopped and looked.

Still looking young for my age but I have acne scars, minor bumps across my cheeks that probably only bother me, redness from scrubbing and crying. My age shows most in the minor puffiness and darkness under my eyes from all the sleepless nights and tears. My stress is visable in the "coin slot" present between my eyebrows. My happiness is clear in the parenthesis I now get when I smile.

Then I noticed, the one nonchanging thing on all humans... eyes. The flesh may wrinkle and sag around them but the eyes remain the same. Still brown. Still able to see with the aid of glasses. My body may be slowly eating itself but I still see through the same eyes that I always have.

The things these old eyes have seen and been through is imense.

Today a man who has meant everything to me will see my eyes and have no idea the pain behind them or the amount in which he has helped me through it. I have also faced the fact that tears may come from the sheer awesome of being able see him face to face, just like I always wanted. This was my "before I die" wish.

This feels like some kind of end of something. My eyes do not yet see the beginning of something else but I know it's there somewhere. The universe always delivers.

Tomorrow is when it finally happens. On my twitter I have been listing a few of my various fears from pooping my pants to crying in his presence. But there's one fear that tops them all.

What if, after this, I don't have anything else to look forward to?

I don't live and breath easily. Though I can remain one of those "in the moment" types of people it's still a struggle without having some kind of goal to exist for. The goal of meeting him has been one of my major drives for half of my life. His music has sung me through it and helped me keep focus.

Tomorrow the goal will be met with many nerves and tears. Tomorrow is also my tenth and final show. Though my family will be there with me, none of them truly understand how profound this will be for me. I am not just meeting a man who sang me through my life... I am facing the end of this thing that has kept me semi-stable all these years.

Yes, yes... what about Bean? I breathe for Bean. For her sanity. To keep her semi-stable. It's all for her, none of it is for me.

I rarely have good events that happen just for me. Most of my life has been seeing and making others happy. And I notice that when something for me finally does happen, the people around me resist it. I can probably count on one hand the times and people who REALLY wanted goodness for me in those moments.

Even with tomorrow. I'm a wreck about it. Nervous beyond words. I'm having panic attacks left and right all week long. I can barely hold onto myself. Do they see the nerves and anxiety? No. One is concerned with how this effects his work schedule. One called me a jerk for no reason whatsoever. And the other thinks I'm a nagging pain in the ass because stuff (not having to do with me) has to be done.

I am rarely a selfish person. I usually always look to someone else, see what's best for them and then go in that direction. My life is never about what I want, it's about making things easier for other people. When you rely on other people you tend to become agreeable just because it's easier. It's easy for people to take advantage of that, become unappreciative and get angry when I actually finally want to do something for me. That can hurt. Greatly. This show, meeting him, is something just for me. That fact displeases some.

I am aware that my nerves can make me crazy. I've been doing my very best. It isn't like I have cabinets full of drugs to help me through this. This is all on me. Keep steady. Breathe. Talk, don't yell. Plan. List. Twitter. Distract. Cry. Listen. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. It's hard, very hard, to remain normal when all you EVER wanted is about to happen.

There is much to do and blogging has become painfully difficult for me now. Notice how nearly everything can be chopped into 140 bits? That is the curse of Twitter.

My point of this was:
What if there's nothing left to look forward to? That is my worst fear.