It’s like the Universe just slams people and circumstances into my path. I needed to tangle with Julianne to understand Becky. I needed to complete Becky to understand Courtney. In understanding Courtney, I came to learn more about myself.
There’s a pattern emerging methinks. I am attracted to a certain kind of instability. Look at my career. Look at the nature of my relationships. Look at the big moves in my life. Look at how I always seem to land on my feet (though never in predictable places).
Courtney began texting me during our read yesterday. It was during the scene where David texts Becky. Poetic. We made plans for her to come see my play in a few hours’ time.
She sat beside me as we waited for my show to start. It was the first time I’d seen her since I slept with her (non-sexually), my last night in Regina in November. I told her about Julianne – how I was able to fuse her spine into the missing pieces of Becky – how doing so helped me to understand where the missing pieces of my own relationship with her.
Courtney smiled. She turned to me and asked what I thought the missing pieces were. I told her that I figured out she has exactly the same sickness that Julianne does. “Yes,” she said simply, then told me the medical term for it, as if saying it out loud confirmed that we were now onto the next chapter of our friendship. I felt the weight of our entire history instantly vanish from our shoulders.
I watched her watch herself on stage. I watched her watch this strange new creature, Becky – fused from selected pieces of Julianne. Two women, 2,700 kilometres apart, bound by a fictional character on stage, a genuine relationship with myself, and an illness they both struggle to overcome.
Life sometimes takes a while to make sense.