Saturday, March 01, 2008

7 months hence

Beau is still MIA. I know I shouldn't be hung up on him, but I can't help it. My heart literally aches worse than my surgical scars. Yesterday I had my lymph nodes removed. Not an easy operation, but I was up and about at Epicure with Lynn, Dana and mom after the hospital. We bought a fabulous post-surgical celebratory cake, which I sleep-ate last night to make up for two days of not eating.

We came home and went here, to put my face in celebrity hairstyles. Really cool tool.

Here's the thing re the Beau. He takes every little thing I say to heart, and ya'll know what a shit talker I am. He's the most sensitive man ever, and incredibly emotionally vulnerable--no father, no mother, no friends, and nobody at home to talk to. So he reads these self-help books, which he takes as gospel. I guess that's what people who aren't in therapy do. You can imagine my opinion of these books. After 12 years of therapy, I can write them. And I've tried to help him; as much as I can. Not change him, because he's a great person. Aside from the fact that he abandoned me this week during a time when I needed him most, he's still at the top of my list.

I don't honestly know what pushed him over the edge this week. And I know what a fucked up time this is for him to go MIA, and it's been since Thursday since he's gotten in touch. And it's breaking my heart.

My friends, family and loved ones--trying to protect my fragile heart--are telling me to forget about him for right now. To take a break and focus on healing my physical self. But that's the easy part, my doctors and my strong body are tackling that easy peasy. How to heal my heart is the hard part.

My mom had the most compelling idea yet. To set a meeting place months from now, when I'm healed and he's divorced, a la An Affair To Remember and Sleepless and Seattle.

I actually think it a brilliant idea. So Beau if you still love me by July 1st, which will be 7 months from the first day we met, let's meet at Geoffrey's in Malibu.
2 p.m. I'll be waiting. I'm always waiting. You'll be living the California rock star dream by then and I'll be cancer-free with luscious locks again.

I finish chemo June 10th.

I can't imagine that I would have such a happy or movie-like ending, but with a love this rare, I can't give up on a happy ending. Otherwise, what do I have to look forward to? A lonely 33rd birthday and a strapless Oscar de la Renta dress for Michael's wedding?