Are We There Yet?

Today, a first and a continuation.

First, the first. My first pedicure. It was wonderful. And so was the massage. And the facial. Still, all in all, not the sort of thing I'd bother with on a blog (considering the glut of minutiae posted every millisecond), but it's one of those events that fall in the "after Aida" category. It occurs to me that there will be a lot more of those. I hate that.

Then out for an evening event hosted by our LGBT Center (that I am honored to serve as a member of the board of directors). It's an annual event that honors women in the community for excellence in a wide variety of fields, from the Arts to Education, to Philanthropy, to Politics and Law. Last year Aida was honored in the Arts category. She spoke eloquently and after the event, we retired to a room at the resort where the event was held. A beautiful room. A beautiful night. And the next day, a delicious breakfast and a luxurious nap on the luxurious furniture. All afternoon.

Tonight's event was well done, and enjoyable. The women who were honored were well deserving of the acknowledgement they received. I had a good time. I laughed. I spent time with friends. I only cried twice. A success, in my estimation.

And on the way home I realized again that everything I do, as strange as this may sound to anyone but me, is an effort to bring Aida back to me. To somehow conjure her again in the solid real world. I don't know exactly why or how attending a semi-formal event honoring lesbians of high acheivement in the community would somehow cast the necessary spell, but there you have it.

I looked for her along every street and wanted to believe ... again. I think this is just how it goes.

I am constantly battling the thought that some day I will finally make it; that I will finally pass the test, do the just right thing, finally perform well enough and someone will yell "Congratulations! You've made it!" And all will finally be well. All that is broken will be mended. All that has been lost to me will be restored. And that my heart and my soul will be returned to me. I can't stop thinking that maybe, just maybe around the next corner, if I do it just right, I will finally arrive.

And that it will all be over. That someone or something will make it all better.

I'm still looking.