Me: Babe, I think today’s the day.
Poor Kyle: What day?
Me: The day I’ve been dreading all my life.
PK: Gosh, you’re so dramatic. What are you talking about?
Me: I think I am going to see a movie all by myself today. In the theatre. Alone.
PK: Oh, good. Take that gift card on the dresser and get in free.
Me: Aren’t you going to try and talk me out of it?
PK: Why would I do that? I don’t care if you go…
Me: Oh, I don’t know. It just means I’m depressed or something, and if I’m actually going to do this, then I’m probably only a step away from drinking a whole bottle of laxatives and defecating myself to death…
It’s true. I’ve always known this day would come. I have put it off for years, but there was no avoiding it. Today I went to see a movie–in the theatre–all alone.
I don’t know how it happened, really. I hadn’t planned it in advance. But for some reason, when I woke up this morning (the second time, that is [first I woke up to water the garden and help Poor Kyle take apart our bed. Then I went back to sleep and woke up again at a more holy hour]) I just knew it was going to happen. I said to myself, “Self…today you have to see a movie all alone. In the theatre. Lonely. And it will be Mama Mia.”
So I did it. I mean, when one’s fate is written in the stars like that, there’s absolutely no sense in fighting it.
But I did bring my camera along to document my bout with depression. Looking back, though, I’ve concluded that filming my experience was kind of cheating; I was never fully alone, since I had my camera to talk to. Nevertheless, it was a fear conquered (somewhat), and I’m crossing it off my list so I’ll never have to do it again.
[It’s long, so scroll to the middle if you just want to see the Mama Mia part.]
I hate being lonely.