real
1
william shatner of all people has helped me out today.
his album, HAS BEEN...really great.
(nick hornby, henry rollins, aimee mann et al. great.)
the first of two important things i got from him--with the help of his wife and lemon jelly--is in one piece he calls "together":
"
Everyday
With you
Our arms
Are home
We're not alone
Not alone
"
it's just this tiny miraculous thing like a little prayer, a little poem, that folds up the corners on our quiet talk in bed this morning, vince's and mine. we laid, bodies like playing cards flat and warm. we hashed it out, i would have pointed fingers if it weren't so cold out there in the bedroom air. our legs entwined, soft tangents. he knows i harbor things. he knows i withhold. he takes the pressure off, makes me talk by calling himself the bad guy.
"so i'm the asshole," he says.
it works.
i cried that others hurt my feelings and i don't know how to explain, to show them. i tell him he's bombastic and doesn't shrink from confronatation and is therefore problematic, everything i'm not.
vince opens his arms. he gets me, he thinks. the wonderful jerk asshole. it's as easy in bed as anywhere to walk into his understanding. our arms our home. i cried. and better, i laughed. he gets me.
2
and william shatner explains something else, too. funny how crystal clear this has been has made it all. just "real." he explains:
"
And while there's a part of me
In that guy you've seen
Up there on that screen
I am so much more
And I wish I knew the things you think I do
I would change this world for sure
But I eat and sleep and breathe and bleed and feel
Sorry to disappoint you
But I'm real
"
and vince tries to get me to understand this about myself. "you're so easy--too easy--on everyone else and too hard on yourself," he whispers, his lips just above the folds of the sheet, just above my mangled hair. "why do you have to take on all the suffering?" he hugs harder, tells me i'm not christ.
i sniff before my nose runs. i sink in, breathe. my shoulders relax.
"nothing can stop me from loving you forever," he says. "it's okay," he says.
it's okay. it's okay that i'm real.
william shatner of all people has helped me out today.
his album, HAS BEEN...really great.
(nick hornby, henry rollins, aimee mann et al. great.)
the first of two important things i got from him--with the help of his wife and lemon jelly--is in one piece he calls "together":
"
Everyday
With you
Our arms
Are home
We're not alone
Not alone
"
it's just this tiny miraculous thing like a little prayer, a little poem, that folds up the corners on our quiet talk in bed this morning, vince's and mine. we laid, bodies like playing cards flat and warm. we hashed it out, i would have pointed fingers if it weren't so cold out there in the bedroom air. our legs entwined, soft tangents. he knows i harbor things. he knows i withhold. he takes the pressure off, makes me talk by calling himself the bad guy.
"so i'm the asshole," he says.
it works.
i cried that others hurt my feelings and i don't know how to explain, to show them. i tell him he's bombastic and doesn't shrink from confronatation and is therefore problematic, everything i'm not.
vince opens his arms. he gets me, he thinks. the wonderful jerk asshole. it's as easy in bed as anywhere to walk into his understanding. our arms our home. i cried. and better, i laughed. he gets me.
2
and william shatner explains something else, too. funny how crystal clear this has been has made it all. just "real." he explains:
"
And while there's a part of me
In that guy you've seen
Up there on that screen
I am so much more
And I wish I knew the things you think I do
I would change this world for sure
But I eat and sleep and breathe and bleed and feel
Sorry to disappoint you
But I'm real
"
and vince tries to get me to understand this about myself. "you're so easy--too easy--on everyone else and too hard on yourself," he whispers, his lips just above the folds of the sheet, just above my mangled hair. "why do you have to take on all the suffering?" he hugs harder, tells me i'm not christ.
i sniff before my nose runs. i sink in, breathe. my shoulders relax.
"nothing can stop me from loving you forever," he says. "it's okay," he says.
it's okay. it's okay that i'm real.
posted by stacy muszynski at 11:46 AM
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