being alive

It is a unique day, this Thursday. Yesterday, when Mister and I discussed it, we weighed the pros and cons, we considered options. At the end of it, we both knew what should happen, but I could tell he didn’t want to be the one to say it. So I did.

“You go, to your mom’s with the kids. It’s just one day. It’s just a Thursday.”

We both knew given all that has happened, this was the best choice, out of consideration for them. His mom, his brothers.

Standing in the parking lot this morning, helping him get Baby and Boy in their car seats, it didn’t feel like it was the best choice, though. It didn’t feel like we should have considered them. “I’m doing this for them. You know that,” he said. “You know that?” he repeated.

I know that. Because that’s my Mister. He thinks of others. He cares for others. It is his natural instinct. Empathy.

So while he is there with our Baby and Boy, I’m sitting on the couch with Hound, her paws warming my legs, watching the movies I normally have to pass over for “Into the Spider-verse” or “Paddington” or, most recently, “Shrek.” One of the movies I linger over is Noah Baumbach’s “A Marriage Story.” And when Adam Driver, better recognized in our house as Ben Solo, sings “Being Alive,” the performance captures me. And maybe it’s a story, but here is the guy who has held it in for most of the story, and he finally declares, “But alone / Is alone, / Not alive.”

Naturally, I googled the lyrics. Not just for the story Adam Driver showed, but for the story that even those few words expressed. I needed to know where the story flowed from, who was responsible for singing my own desires? Cue George Furth’s musical Company, telling the story of Robert, the awakened bachelor, who aches to finally find the end for all aloneness. “Somebody crowd me with love. Somebody force me to care. Somebody let me come through, I’ll always be there, as frightened as you, to help us survive, being alive. Being alive. Being alive!” He begs for empathy. Someone, know me. Someone, still want me after all knowing. Someone, choose me. Someone, stay even after you wonder if you’ve chosen wrong. Somebody, let me be the one who comes through for you.

And that’s my Mister. The never-ending empathizer for all his people, but mostly for me. He will always empathize for others, but he will always lean toward me. Even though today was spent apart, there was no question in my mind that he wished it had been together.