Forward Is the Only Direction

  I am not interested in contributing to the sad rabble of my colleagues, all devastated that they didn't get to see their students through to the end of the school year. I did not get the opportunity to say good bye to my kids at LHS, or my colleagues. I had barely said "hello" to the kids at Hinkley when everything shut down. 
  It's fine. Don't put so much energy into good bye. A few colleagues stayed in touch, a few kids found me. Cool.
   I get that a good bye is important to be able to leave it behind. There is a human tendency to linger in the past without a good bye, to maybe hover around the idea of the person or place with rose colored glasses, referring to It/Them as "The Best". That's also unhealthy, by the way. But you don't have to whine when the good bye doesn't present itself. Just walk away, it's fine. Exit. Scene. Curtain. End play.
    I have laid waste to more relationships that anyone I know. I dicn't say "good bye", largely because I left in a hurry. The one time I got a good bye was when I left UH, and my friends threw me a party. That was awesome.I liked that.But all it did was make me wish I wasn't leaving, and that made me sad so...I tend to leave quickly.
    If I can manage, I sneak out. I've mastered this at parties, which I no longer attend because I hate them. I don't know anyone anymore, and I'm awkward and I've come to accept and embrace the awkward, which you do not want at your gathering. Unless it's a big social event, like a wedding, then I can hide. I tried to attend student grad parties a few years ago---ugh, what a mess. I found myself in the back yard playing with the dog. Right before leaving LHS I had acquiesced to a few department gatherings, mostly lunch and living room things. I managed to survive and I made everyone in the room cringe only once that I know of when I almost started a fight.
    I like bars and pubs. I like one friend I can sit with and yell above the din. Maybe a couple or two over for dinner, I like that. And those examples have nothing to do with good byes.
     I am weirdly compliant but stubborn, kind yet a dick. It depends on the circumstance and if there's an animal involved. I spout spiritual awareness but will arm wrestle God over a Twinkie. In short: I do not practice what I preach. Not always. So, when it's time to leave a job, let's say, and all the signs are there and I refuse to do so, I flip up the 'hawk and challenge God do a dual.
     And then I'm fired. Or backed into a corner so tightly the only choices are to continue to fight or give my family a break and move on. God wins. Every time.
      I do not make new friends because I fear that the "good bye" will be ugly. I do not have a solid history here, guys, and my recent school year will attest to that. Or It will, once It wakes up from Its nap: It had a rough time.
     I am baffled by teachers who are sobbing because they miss their kids every day.  Granted, a good chunk of these people are in elementary ed, and a few are music teachers. That's a slam dunk for emotion:elementary music. Dude. Those little knee biters can really get to you. The years I've directed them at PAA taught me that. I can imagine a teacher gets really attached after a school year, or two or three. Watching them grow up and lose teeth and say funny things. But they're growing up, dude, the good bye is written into the hello, you knew that when you started, why'd you get attached? Ugh.
     It's the same with high school: They're Gonna Leave.  You get to play with them for a season, and then set them free. That's what I always told them "I built you to fly, so fly."(That was the kinder version, most kids just heard me growl "Love you, mean it, get out.")
     We did awards at Hinkley, and we had to do it online of course. The kids showed up and seemed grateful to be recognized, but I just met them. I literally worked for two months before the 'rona shut us down. I have no idea if they were truly grateful, I don't know if they could give a rat's ass or if they are happy to leave or sad or how befuddled they are as they face their uncertain futures. I just did what I do, followed the ritual of theatre 'cause that's all I know. 
   That's all I know. The Ritual Of Theatre.
   Which will return. 
   In the meantime, I'm wandering through my house like a fart in a mitten, starting and not finishing projects, beginning blogs I'll never complete, walking the dogs and steadfastly marching into the grocery store several times a week because apparently I'm cooking now. There are no deadlines. I'm lost.
   Without a curtain, there is no opening or closing. No entrances or exits.
   "Nothing happens, nobody comes." The existential nightmare.
   Time isn't real.
   The curtain didn't come down, so why are you saying good bye? It's not over.
   But forward is the only direction, and here I am compliant and stubborn.