THE REAL ME

Talking with Beth last night, I was left with another illumination, just as disturbing as my Sunday night acid trip realization about the women in my life.

Beth is an old friend from high school. Every time we get together, we remininsce and remember the good ol' days. Beth used to be best friends with Amy Coates, my "soul mate" in high school and the First Ghost of My Lovelorn Past that I jettisoned about five years ago.

Conversation turned to "cliques" and how I was never one to belong to any particular crowd. I floated amongst all the groups: I could hang with the geeks, the punks, the "heshers" (heavy metal kids), the art fags, the losers, the beautiful people, the outcasts and exiles, the hipper-than-thou, and the regular kids who only wanted to graduate from high school in one piece.

It wasn't until my Senior year that I fell in with the Theater Arts crowd, the "drama kids", as they were derisively known.

Beth told me that, among her friends, there was a resentment against me. I never knew about this resentment. Evidently, her circle of friends was made up of people I used to hang out with: Amy, Sal, Ian, Fast Eddie Peale, and a few others. Under Amy's lead, everyone agreed that I was a loser for hanging out with the actors, and they couldn't see what it was that I liked about them.

I was surprised to hear this. I'd never heard such a thing. I knew Amy didn't like any of the Theater Arts people, but that's because Amy never liked anyone. And at the time, she was busy trying to land some guy she had a crush on, so it's not like I had anything to offer her in the way of common ground.

It must be noted: if I ever "strayed" from Amy's clutches, she always found a way to incorporate herself into the mix, in order to keep me on a short leash. I guess she felt that the scene I immersed myself in was too far out of her reach, and so she decided to get people to close ranks around me.

I didn't notice, and the proof is that it took 13 years for me to find out that I was the target of much private hostility.

Beth asked me, "What was it that you saw in that crowd anyway?"

I answered very honestly, "They were the funniest people I ever met. They were lots of fun. They accepted me for who I was, and they made me feel like I belonged. I didn't have to try very hard to get them to like me, and it didn't take long for me to like them."

I said this to underscore the big difference between those people who eventually became my closest friends and the people whom I used to run with, Beth's circle of friends. When I was hanging out with Amy or Sal or any of those people, I was always made to feel like I was some sort of circus freak, like I was a clown who amused people, some crazy form of entertainment for those who wanted to live dangerously yet vicariously. There was nothing I wouldn't do, no sacred cow I wouldn't happily destroy, no subject too taboo for me. I answered to no one and feared nothing, and no one told me what to do.

There was never any reciprocation from that core group of people that I used to be friends with; they never wanted to go out on a limb with me. They were content to watch me make a fool of myself, for their own kicks.

Meeting the actors in Theater Arts was like meeting a bunch of different versions of me, a whole assortment of fools just like myself. Now I was no longer the center of attention, the one person crazy enough to go the distance and take it further than anyone else. Now, I was surrounded by talented, intelligent folk who longed to entertain, and were not ashamed, and vibed off of the reception they received from their peers.

No one put anyone else down, and everyone got credit for their contributions. Except for a few bad apples who were at odds with the rest of the class, there weren't a lot of negative people in the lot. And the thrill of working on a theater production-- the teamwork, the sense of achievement when finished, the camraderie --bonded me with these people in ways I'd never before contemplated. I considered them family, and to this day, if I ever see anyone from that group of people, I smile and think about all the fun we had in my Senior year.

I can't say the same for the circle that Amy held sway over-- as much as I liked the people in that group, I never felt like they wanted to know The Real Me.

The Real Me is a goofy jerk-off who would rather waste time than take life seriously; The Real Me is a little kid who wants your undivided attention for a precise amount of time, before he turns his coat and goes onto the next adventure; The Real Me is a person who realizes that every minute could be your last and therefore you had to end your days feeling like you got a little closer to reaching your dreams...

Beth might have been the only person in that group who ever saw a glimpse of The Real Me; Fast Eddie also-- making music is as close to lovemaking as you can get, and he and I were in bands together for quite a while before we went out separate ways.

Everyone else was too busy thinking about their own needs to bother with the message behind my behavior, the reasons that prompted me to do the things I did. It took a group of aspiring actors-- people who wear masks all the time --to uncover the person behind the mask I wore 24/7, the mask that everyone else was fixated on, the mask that hid my true self.

Even now, as I blog, this is a mask I'm wearing. It's a distortion of my real attitudes and my real opinions, but it's still a mask. The Real Me? He sometimes gets in a few words here and there, but what you're reading, no matter how many personal details I throw into the mix, is just a creation of my overactive imagination.

It's still me, though. It's just not The Real Me. And yet, at the same time, it is The Real Me, because it is rooted in that Reality that makes Me Real.

Get it?

No?

Fine. One day, I won't have to wear this mask, and you'll understand my gist perfectly. But until then, keep trying to understand me, and I'll keep my true self hidden from view... maybe one of these days, we'll all get it right.