A Reply of Sorts

Today my best friend posted a heartbreaking blog about how she's going to miss me. And as I cry through this entry, I tell myself I have to be strong. I have to get through the next twelve days.

Twelve days.

But here's the thing Claire. Anyone who has heard you sing knows that you put me (and the rest of the world) to shame with your voice. But this sappy blogging thing? That's my job. You can be sad, and sappy, and bring tears to my eyes all you want. But at the end of the day, we both know the truth. You're pushing me to be better.

Because you believe in me. Even when I'm so scared, you believe in me.

What's even more petrifying is that you're not alone in this. So many of my dear friends and family are telling me that things are going to be wonderful for me. That Leonard and I will find a fabulous home, that we'll have so much fun, that we belong up there. That you'll miss me, but that you're so SO happy for me.

Because the truth, the gut wrenching truth is that I'm terrified.

I didn't have a lot of friends growing up. This isn't a secret to most. Until you met me Claire I didn't have a lot to offer. Then somehow I took the stage in a bit role, and formed relationships that would last a lifetime. I moved from theatre to theatre, and collected more people along the way. For every person I lost, two more took their place. And while I'm closer to some than others, there's no doubt that I've made some amazing connections.

Friends who want the best for me, even when it means saying goodbye. Friends who find a way to spend time with me, even when time and distance stand in our way. Friends who don't understand why I'm so scared. Friends who think so highly of me, that they truly believe I'll find my place in this new city. That the people of San Francisco will see the amazing woman that they believe I am.

I wish that I could believe in myself the way that some of you believe in me.

So thank you Claire, for curing this blogger block. For opening up the flood gates and reminding me that there's so much more going on in my soul. So much that I want to say to you, to others. So many words that I can't form, because once they're spoken that's it. I'm really leaving.

I want to leave. But like Linus, I'm reluctant to part with the security blanket of friendship. Petrified to move away from the women who know me better than I know myself at times.