When I moved back home, I was mortified. I had failed for the first time in my life, really failed. I hated that, but not enough to fight for it. I continued to gain weight, and was almost unrecognizable to anyone who knew me. It happened over the course of several years, so I didn't notice how unraveled my life and its direction had become. I was lucky enough when I went back to school to find something that I was good at. Once I was finished with school for the second time, the jobs I was able to get afforded me the luxury of working from home and I cocooned there.
Holly and I stayed in close contact, but rarely saw each other. I had a few friends that I spent time with, and while I went out on a few dates from time to time, there was no one special. For someone that had partied like a rock star and never wanted for male companionship, I had effectively shut down that part of my life. It was as if I was numb…down there. I'd had a highly charged sex life and a strong sexual appetite, but once I started to gain weight, I no longer had the desire. OK, strike that…I had the desire, but I was so reluctant to let anyone touch me. Over time, that part of me just went to sleep. I had become a shell of my former self and didn't even know it.
Everything changed when my friends took me out for my birthday. I had stayed in contact with several of my girlfriends from high school, getting together for dinners and cocktails occasionally. They always made me tell them stories about the exciting life I had led in California, all eighteen months of it, and it was fun. There was still a little crazy left in me, and I let it out sometimes, albeit carefully. They had surprised me with tickets to see Rent, and while it had been years since I had seen a play or musical of any kind, I was touched that they would remember how much I had loved the Rent soundtrack. I had never actually seen the show and thought it would be an interesting night. Interesting did not even begin to describe it.
From the moment I walked into the theater, from seeing the stage, to even finding our seats in the mezzanine, my skin was tingling. My senses were heightened, my breath was coming fast and I actually felt a little dizzy. Then the lights went out.
There is a feeling, an electricity that happens in live theater. There is a connection between the actors and the audience that is palpable. When the lights came back up, I saw the band on stage and felt the music begin to move across me…I was overwhelmed. I tensed and when I recognized the opening song, I could feel tears beginning to form in my eyes. Before one note was sung, before one word was spoken, I was lost in the moment…and I began to cry.
It was as though everything I had been missing in my life came into focus and I couldn't hide from it anymore. I clutched the armrest as silent sobs racked through my body. The tears were falling, but I was filled with such a sense of joy, of rapture, of belonging. I couldn't stop the smile that was stretching from ear to ear. It was magic. It was the closest to a religious experience that I had ever come. At one point, my friend to my left tried to ask me something, but I just shook my head. I couldn't take my eyes off the stage. I knew that this was what I was supposed to be doing with my life and I could not wait to start living again.
After that night, it was like there was a hand pushing against my back, constantly keeping me moving forward. I went home, looked in the mirror and cried at what I saw. Not so much about the weight, but the woman looking back at me had none of the spark, none of the crazy that I used to love about myself. I cried for the time that I had lost. I cried for letting things go on like this for too long. I cried for the living I had deprived myself of for so long. Then, once I was done crying, I went to work.
I obtained the services of a personal trainer the next day and set about changing the outside. I also started speaking to a counselor to change the inside. I took an acting class at the local theater and was insanely happy. I was thrilled to be back in the company of creative people again and threw myself into every scene, every critique and every exercise as if it was my job. Then, one evening, I went alone to a club that was sponsoring an open mike night. I climbed onto the tiny stage with my sheet music, which I gave to the accompanist. I sang my song, hearing my voice ring out strong and clear through the club, and felt whole. I felt like I had come home.
I began to open up and have fun again. As the weight came off, my confidence returned and I became reacquainted with the power that kind of confidence can bring a woman. I went out on dates and the first time that I invited a man back to my house…well, let's just say it was another religious experience. Why the hell did I deprive myself for so long? I rejoiced in my reawakened sexuality, and while I was careful, I certainly enjoyed myself. I was definitely more aggressive than I was back in the day, and I was pleased to realize that I was still quite good at the sexing.
After almost two years of self-discovery and work, I was ready to make another big change. I visited Holly in L.A., and by the end of the first day, she had already invited me to move in with her. I was ready to move back and start my new life. I knew that I could continue working on a consultant basis no matter where I was living, and it just felt right. I thought about her offer for about seven seconds and then agreed. We were both thrilled to be spending time together again. I knew that living with her would be as fun as it was the first time, and it certainly was. She was truly my best friend, my sister, and I would do anything for her. She also saw through all my bullshit and never let me get away with it. You had to love her for that.
When I got back to my car, I stretched out a little from my run and then climbed in. I put the top down while I took a long pull on my water bottle. I glanced at my cell and saw that I had a few messages, the first of these from Holly, asking me to pick up Mr. Chow for dinner on my way home.
The second was from Nick asking me if I wanted to go out dancing the following night. His favorite club in West Hollywood played all eighties music on certain nights and it was the best for shaking your ass.
The third was a text from a number I didn't recognize:
Sheridan, The Lost Boys is on TNT tonight.
I know how much you desire Haim.
I laughed when I read it, knowing there was only one unknown number that could have sent me this text. I quickly texted him back:
Hamilton, I already have my DVR set to record it
so I can "desire" myself whenever the mood strikes.
I plugged in my iPod and was selecting some driving music when my phone buzzed, alerting me to a new text:
Sheridan, Now I am concerned for you…
I think you need a new celebrity to crush on,
someone a little younger, perhaps. More charm, less heroin.
I felt my heart flutter a little. He was cute and funny. And 24, Grace, 24!