The In-Between Time
A term I use for times like this.
It’s the time I spend waiting, or doing things when I feel like I’m waiting for something to happen.
The time I spend killing time.
Right now is another of those times.
I’m tumbling after reading an old Peter Cameron short story collection that I bought years ago but never started. I found out this morning that they made a movie out of Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You a couple years ago but it never came out in theaters and doesn’t appear to have been released on DVD and isn’t available on Netflix. So naturally, I’m upset because it was supposedly pretty good, even though it was made by Italian people (the last Italian-made American movie I watched was Troll 2. Enough said.) and only seems to have debuted at the Miami International Film Festival back in 2010 or something.
Anyways, I’m killing time so that it can be time to go to the gym. I want to work out but I have to wait a bit because I ate a little while ago and will feel sick if I go straight to the gym from dinner.
I’m just waiting for it to be time for me to do something.
Or for it to be time for something to happen.
I feel like I’ve been killing time a lot lately. I don’t like it. It’s boring and makes me feel useless. Or unwanted.
I’ve been waiting to hear back from that one guy about filming for that one thing I mentioned at some point last month in a post that I can’t find. I sent him a tweet yesterday asking about it, but so far haven’t heard anything back. I feel like I’m being ignored. I don’t like being ignored. Nobody does.
I hate waiting for people to respond to my messages, too. When they don’t, I always enter Paranoia Mode and start thinking that they’re avoiding me because I did something wrong. I’m trying to tell myself that he’s just busy, because that’s probably what it is. But it doesn’t make the waiting process any easier. Although I suppose any reply at all would be better than nothing.
I just hope he actually SENDS me a reply. I’d like to think that this isn’t gonna be a constant thing in my life, where people start talking to me and say things and everything looks promising and then all of a sudden they stop talking to me one day and everything falls apart while I’m just left here to figure out what to do next and where to go or how to move forward on my own.
So far, this has been as dependable an outcome to the situation as the sun coming up every morning after nighttime. I’m not sure if that’s the most sensible way of saying, “that’s what happens EVERY time with EVERY new development in my life,” but that’s what I’m trying to say.
Any time a guy develops an interest in me, he always suddenly loses it and leaves. That’s why I gave up on dating.
The last couple times someone contacted me for my interest in filming in this field, they’ve done the same thing: dropped off the face of the earth and never contacted me again.
It’s like they’re both the same, and I’ve started to believe that that’s what will ALWAYS happen.
So whenever guys tell me they like me, I don’t believe them. Even if they seem convinced of what they’ve told me, I know it won’t last forever. Nothing does.
And whenever people tell me I’m cute and ask if I’m interested in working with them, my immediate response is: “this is a trick and you’re lying to me for kicks.” Because it’s never panned out before, so why would it now?
So I just sit here and kill time, waiting for the day where this pattern breaks. I try to break it on my own, but it never gets me anywhere but onto the bus headed straight to “Hurt and Humiliation-Ville.”
So far, this pattern has only been broken in each of those situations ONCE, both times by the same person. But they were both fleeting. Filming is over now, and we could never truly be together, even though I am finding that I really want to. More and more I think about him and what could be. And how it isn’t and it makes me sad. And I wonder if he thinks about me just as much and in the same way.
I suppose this is me experiencing love for the first time. But I don’t know if it’s really love. I want to think it is, but it might just be the beginning of it. And I don’t want to let it become love, because I know it could never be and there’s too much at stake. Plus, I doubt that it’s a mutual love. I don’t believe in that concept anymore.
I keep telling myself it’s good that I left after filming ended. I’m convinced that if I stayed or was closer to him in location, then we would probably see each other more often and then I really WOULD start to fall in love with him.
I mean, how do you NOT fall in love with the person who was able to teach you that you really were lovable? That you really were attractive, and smart, and fun to be around? That you really were worth something?
How do you not fall in love with the person who teaches you all of these things over the course of a week, and then does it again in another six months later?
I don’t know.
And that’s why I have to make sure I don’t let it happen. Because I know what will happen if I do.
So I sit here and kill time while I wait for it to be time for me to kill time again, only in a more efficient and entertaining way. I sit here and wait for the next stage of my life to begin, which is to say I wait for the pattern of my life to repeat itself ad infinitum.
Which is to say, I sit here and wait for my life to end.