Separation in the time of coronavirus

Adding more fun to calling it quits

So, this isn't really related to any of my other posts. Ok... maybe tangentially, if you go back and find the post about my latest distractions.

But, essentially, this is me, wondering if I'm seeing what I want to see. I think I'll know soon enough, because I've got to ask to find out, but, until then, my mind is spinning.

As part of me trying to remember who I am again after decades of burying things, and remember what I like and just get on with everything and not lose myself again, I've started going to lots of music events. Not just one band. But, I fully admit, one gets a special focus from me.

About a year ago I treated myself to the first live music I've seen in a while. Because of covid. But also because the ex and the kid didn't have the same... appreciation for live music. And, just like movies, or tv shows, they talk through EVERYTHING. Call me crazy, but when I want to see or hear something, I don't want running commentary from people who have nothing to do with it. If I did, I'd stay home and have a conversation. So, when I go to listen to music, I want to hear it. Feel it. Lose myself in it. I want to pick up on the lyrics, and maybe catch how they aren't quite the same today as other days. And ponder if that means something, if it's a slip, or if it's intentional. And then, make a pretend connection with the person singing — maybe, in part, not to feel so isolated. Sure, it's all in my head, but we all know that the mind has an amazing ability to take care of itself. And sometimes, even if it's not real, it helps.

Back to the story. So, a year ago, I went to a festival with several bands I'd heard of, but had never seen. I spent all day, sitting in a chair, out in a field, listening to a handful of bands play music I mostly enjoyed. A few I really enjoyed — and I've kept seeing them whenever I can over the past year. One triggered something in me that made me seek out more info. I can't be the only one who sometimes gets a feeling upon meeting (or almost meeting) someone and just thinks they'd get along. It's happened to me maybe half a dozen times. I don't remember ever being wrong. It's not solely romantic — some friends started out this way. It's just a feeling. I want to say “simpatico” — but I bet if I look up the true definition, I'd say that's not quite it, either. It's just a thought that “this person and I would really get along.” That simple. I'm not one to spend a lot of time or effort on half-friends. I'd much rather have a few real friends, than dozens of superficial relationships. And right now, while I have a few people I'd consider true friends, there are none that I'm close to and talk to regularly. I'm good on my own. But I'd be lying if I said that I don't wonder what it's like to be super-close to someone who I really trust, respect, and want to hear from and share everything with — both ways. It's such a rare thing. And I don't know if most people don't care, pretend they have it, or really do have that in their lives — and maybe it's just something with me that I don't easily find this kind of match.

Wandering away from the point, again. So, at this festival last year, one of the singers captured my attention. It wasn't when he was singing. Or even the lyrics (at least not at that point). It was when he finished his set and went from sitting on the side of the stage (the next band's singer had indicated he was going to ask him to join him a on stage a bit later — so he was sticking close), to lying on the ground. Innocuous, right? But it was dark. And he was by himself. And he chose, while dressed in almost all black, to lose himself in the audience. He was lying in front of me (I was still in my chair), alternating between just lying there, and looking at his phone. As people walked toward him, and barely avoided tripping over or landing on top of him as he lay there, in almost pitch black. Maybe he was tired. Maybe it had nothing to do with what was circulating through his head. But in that moment, I was intrigued and hooked. Because all I kept thinking was — this is something I'd do. Lose myself in a crowd till no one can see me. But he also did what I'd do. He was listening and paying attention. The moment the guy on stage called for him, he popped up and made his way over.

Curiosity piqued, I sought out more info. And the more I dug, the more it reinforced this imaginary connection. No, not in a stalker fates-intertwined way. In a... if we ever really had a conversation, I bet it would be good. Not superficial, not strained — just comfy and enjoyable.

And then, there are some coincidences and similarities — that just solidify this mental fiction. Studied the same things in college, study abroad, age, younger sister, family life revolved around education, parents grew up in the same area of the country, went to small colleges, take pictures of similar things, like to do things ourselves (vs. outsource), etc. There are also tons of differences — namely, that while our musical taste may overlap, he's got talent and affinity for music — and I most certainly do not. :) So, not deluded into thinking we have tons in common, either — keeping a nice check on reality and the fact that maybe, if we'd talk, we'd discover in less than 10 minutes that we'd never have a desire to chat again.

And all of this would be fine. I wouldn't expect anything to come of it and know that 95% of what I see is what my mind wants me to see and think. But I still enjoy the music (and his bandmates seem nice — and amusing — so I have other incentives to keep going to shows), and still love that attending and listening to the music pulls me out of my head for a couple hours each time.

But, a week ago, at a show, he made a reference to living out in the country (vs. the smaller city he'd been living in) — in the town I've lived in the for the past 6 years. I know where he used to live — down the road about 20 miles. And I knew he moved sometime in the past 6+ months (the internet — both amazing and evil). But didn't know where. Just knew it was likely somewhere local since all the shows still seem to be in the same area (here and within 150 miles or so). But hearing my town come out of his mouth while he was on stage was a bit of a shock.

And it hit harder this evening than it did originally. Because for the past 4-5 months I've seen a particular cyclist go by my house a handful of times — that I'd never seen before. Someone who looks an awful-lot like him. Granted, he's a taller white dude with a beard — and that describes about 50% of the male population where I live. I'd seen this cyclist go by the house before I knew he'd moved. And I remember the first time I saw him, I thought he looked like him. And then thought I was nuts. Because I knew he lived somewhere else and there was no reason he'd bike up here. But I know he bikes — so it caused me to whip my head around. But, he was going too fast for me to get a second look. And then, tonight, right after I pulled in from work, I walked to my mailbox, and there was the cyclist — coming around the corner and going right by me, my mailbox, and the house. And maybe it's not him. It's highly unlikely it's him. What would be the odds? But, damn, they've got the same smile.

So... I'm seeing the band play again tomorrow night. And again on Saturday. I've only said a few words to him. I've got the TMI discomfort keeping me in check most of the time — I know too much about him and it makes me uncomfortable with starting a conversation with him. I feel guilty for knowing as much as I do — even if he's a public figure and it's all info that anyone can find online if they just take the time to read. It just seems unfair and intrusive. Yet, somehow, I just keep getting sucked back in. :) At least I'm not prone to conspiracy theories and those rabbit holes.

The question I keep asking myself... and I keep changing my answer to... do I ask if he's the new neighborhood cyclist? Do I ask if he really lives in this town (and not just some weird thing he said on stage and he doesn't really live here)? I absolutely know it will bug me if I don't ask. If I don't get an answer (regardless of what it is). But I also dread making it awkward. I like the music. I like the fun of driving all over to see them play. It gets me out of the house and gives me a destination. There are other bands (and I do go out to see others), but where they play is often the same old, same old. This group goes all over. And if I had more free time and flexibility, I'd be able to see them in a bunch more new places that I'm already bummed I can't see. Tomorrow night is on a boat. I haven't been on the water in 3 years. I'm so excited — combining music while being on the water? Perfect! So I don't want to fuck that sort of thing up.

So... do I risk freaking the guy out? Is asking to confirm if what he said on stage was true crossing a line? I feel he opened the door by telling everyone. But am I rationalizing being nosy? And how do I casually say “did you ride by my house last night?” without sounding crazy? I live on 2.5 acres, in a town of less than 10k people. And, for a little extra context, I know he's seen me at at least a handful of shows. Many are small. And I sit by myself — trying like hell to sit away from all the others who are gabbing away through the whole thing. One of his bandmates introduced himself to me at the last show on Sunday — and said “I've seen you at a few shows.” So... yeah. I'm torn. It would really suck to feel uncomfortable at future shows. Notice I didn't say “not go to future shows”? :)

And yep. All rhetorical. Questions for me alone. Because I've turned off comments. Because this is where I spew — to try to process whatever's passing through my head. Without paying a shrink. In between shows, when I can't just turn it off.

Shit. I hope I can sleep tonight. Would be a bummer to be so tired I miss the boat. Or fall off it because I'm so out of it. :)

It's been 10 months since my last spewing of thoughts to figurative paper. I'm mostly done with venting. Nothing's really changed. I mean, he got laid off a few months ago — so that's been fun. Covid's still lingering. He's older and wasn't able to find a similar job right away. So, he's now doing some time in retail, but that's barely contributing. And I'm trying to stay supportive. He's always been a bit fragile (medically and emotionally). And we're still legally tied. The goal of finalizing things has been delayed by the layoff. The reasoning... worst case, I can add him to my insurance — and I feel obligated to keep that option available. Plus, I don't think I can get money out of the house (to share some of the equity built when we were together) without having his monetary contributions coming in to show I can pay all the bills. What a drawn out, pain in the ass this has become.

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From the last blowout (that I wrote about), he informed me of some of my major shortcomings. One is that “nothing in this house is mine.” He went on to give an example — the kitchen. His gripe? I'm too rigid in where I want things to be put (standard kitchen stuff, after it's been used and washed).

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Despite everything, I've bottled up what anger I do have (it's not volatile — just tired of him playing the victim and me having no chance to even tell him what a dick he was to lie to me for years). It's been 5 months since I decided, and almost 3 months since I told him it was done. But we keep it civil and talk a bit, and when I cook, I still include him. And when I make plans, I include him.

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I've been struggling with this one. He's 11. Asks a lot of questions. Things have been superficially amicable, so it's hard to explain something that just doesn't have any explanation.

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