Yesterday was busy: I saw Dr. Shoja at nine and then had lunch with Susan at the yacht club (where I showed her two trophies donated by my father). At six I met Beth at the airport. Jet lagged on arrival from TO, she’s staying in our friend Bruce’s place not far from me for a week. Her plane was slightly late but she settled in for a good night’s rest. During the time she’s here I plan to play and take a break from dressmaking.
And I’m renouncing attending parties. Dr. S. says its okay. When I said that the decision made me feel like a bit of a social failure she asked me: “Why do you think alcohol is such a vital part of parties?”
Larry and Camille emailed to say my cakes were a hit at the party I left on Sunday. And Camille said that she liked my play. She is relentlessly positive, however, and I think she might have just skimmed it. But she’s got me thinking about sending it to a dramaturge. Beth has used the fellow I’d use and she said he is very frank and that’s exactly what I want.
So it’s back to my script. I will go through it again at least once before sending it to Colin. Then, depending on what he says, I will make my decision about whether to build my dresses into an exhibition space or into the PAL Theatre for a short run of the play.
I haven’t written about my “inappropriate friend,” Dr. Soothe in a long time. Like me, Dr. Soothe has mental health issues but what strikes everyone is his spectacular presentation. His good looks attract an endless string of women who don’t stay; one of them long ago was a close female friend. That’s how I met him.
We became friends and then friends with benefits and I fell hard for him but in a wonderful aloof way.
It’s odd, for sure, that a straight man would engage with me as he has. But I couldn’t be happier and I get it. He gets a level of understanding from me that few others can offer; I know what its like to lose one’s mental balance. Plus: My affection comes with no strings and lasts. It’ll last as long as he wants it to because I love him but I don’t want anything more than what we have. His girlfriends, however, always want “a relationship” — until they discover his mental health problems, that is, and leave.
That’s our history minus one thing: Two years ago he was diagnosed with two cancers. I was his only visitor in the hospital, I think, and our bond grew. My AIDS experience helped me to understand his fears.
On Monday he found a lump on his neck and went to the doctor. He’s having it biopsied this week. I’m selfishly scared; he’s terrified and alone. Now I’m to become Dr. Soothe to him.