Zigsta
Disney Film Director
Link to original post: [drupal=5076]I finally realized something about myself--Debra continuation[/drupal]
So I just got back from something I've been looking forward to for a very long time: Going to a Debra Romer concert in LA and meeting her. (For those of you who haven't read the original blog, check it out.) It was a really small venue. Nice and cozy, with not even 20 people tops. Those of you who know me probably have heard of my plan: Go to a concert in LA, tell her I'm Chris Hewitt and wrote her a letter a while back, and if things seem to going well, ask her to lunch at DreamWorks Animation. I even convinced a good friend of mine to come with me and wingman just in case.
I got there about 10 minutes early and waited for the concert to start. My friend texted me saying he was gonna get there around 8 PM, when the concert was scheduled to start. I had my phone out on the round table I was sitting at so I could tell when he got there--he needed $8 to get in the room, and I told him I would spot him. I was sitting second row and center from the stage.
Shortly into the second song, Debra looked right at me as she sang. Soon my phone lit up. But I didn't dare look away at the phone. I realized then that I had never looked right into someone else's eyes as they sang. It was especially notable to me because a lot of singers like to close their eyes during their performances, but Debra kept her gaze right on me. My friend came up, and I zapped back out to spot him some cash.
The concert was over in about 30 minutes. My friend started asking me for a gameplan to meet her. I figured there would be some kind of line, but no one was moving from their seats. Another act was getting ready to perform at 9. We both knew I had a limited amount of time to put my plan into action. We moved out to the bar on the side of the (small) room. My friend kept pushing me to walk up and introduce myself, but I insisted on waiting. Debra seemed to be going from group to group. Just when my friend, being the great wingman he is, was about to say something embarrassing to stop Debra, she came up to us.
I introduced myself, but only by first name. I tried to think of something to follow up with, but all I could think of was complimenting how well she did. My wingman tried to jump in and help as my mind tried to think of something to say, but literally nothing came out. I stood there totally flabbergasted at myself, for I wasn't nervous in the least. In fact, I hadn't been nervous all day long. I just didn't feel anything, and I wasn't sure why. My friend kept trying to keep the conversation going, and Debra even asked something, but whenever I said anything, it was always something short and to the point. I stood there completely confused with myself. This wasn't me. I'm not the shy quiet type, but here I was looking like I was actually nervous. And I could tell things were getting awkward. The background music got so loud to me that I literally couldn't hear anything Debra was saying. I strained as much as I could and cursed my subpar hearing. And still I couldn't think of anything to do or say.
Soon Debra left. My friend was shocked. He said this wasn't me at all. He pointed out plenty of other opportunities to talk to Debra for the next 10 minutes, but I just didn't do anything. It was like an out-of-body experience: My mind knew exactly what to do, yet my body didn't do anything. I didn't feel nervous, yet I didn't act like my normal confident self. Yet I didn't even feel unconfident. Soon I blew all my chances, and Debra left with her friend and brother. When my friend asked what happened, I told him I wasn't sure. I've literally never experienced this before. I was totally confused and disappointed in myself.
As I drove 20 minutes back home, all I could think about was for a logical reason for my reaction. Why would I clam up yet not be nervous? Why would I just go on autopilot?
I started reaching deep, and I suddenly came face-to-face with my single greatest fear: Getting into a relationship. I haven't been in a meaningful one in almost 7 years now, and I always figured it was because I just hadn't met the right person. I had either tried getting with different girls over the years or gone on a few dates, but nothing ever stuck or went deep in the least. I remembered I had told a friend a few months ago that I had built armor to keep girls from getting too close to me.
It was then that it all completely hit for me: I've become cold to the idea of letting a girl get that close to me. I worry that I'll be inadequate. I'm normally someone who wears his heart on his sleeve, but after getting burned badly seven years ago, I gave less and less of myself to girls to the point that I keep it surface-level.
What really scares me though isn't the full realization of this fear. It's the fact that I wasn't scared meeting Debra at all. I've subconsciously accepted the fact that I won't let girls in to get to know me, and the mere possibility of Debra reacting to me saying "I'm Chris Hewitt, and I wrote you a letter" made me instinctively react in the surest way to not let her even come close to getting to know me: Doing absolutely nothing.
Instead, I looked like a creeper. Yet I'm not depressed. And that really disturbs me. It bothers me that I'm such a personable guy who loves to be around people--and someone who other people love being around--yet I, without even thinking about it, close myself off to girls like it's nothing. I've seen the looks on peoples' faces when I tell them the story of Debra and the letter. I've truly never seen people so gripped by a story before. I wanted to deliver a happy ending.
But the main character in this story is tragically flawed, and he doesn't know how to fix himself.
So I just got back from something I've been looking forward to for a very long time: Going to a Debra Romer concert in LA and meeting her. (For those of you who haven't read the original blog, check it out.) It was a really small venue. Nice and cozy, with not even 20 people tops. Those of you who know me probably have heard of my plan: Go to a concert in LA, tell her I'm Chris Hewitt and wrote her a letter a while back, and if things seem to going well, ask her to lunch at DreamWorks Animation. I even convinced a good friend of mine to come with me and wingman just in case.
I got there about 10 minutes early and waited for the concert to start. My friend texted me saying he was gonna get there around 8 PM, when the concert was scheduled to start. I had my phone out on the round table I was sitting at so I could tell when he got there--he needed $8 to get in the room, and I told him I would spot him. I was sitting second row and center from the stage.
Shortly into the second song, Debra looked right at me as she sang. Soon my phone lit up. But I didn't dare look away at the phone. I realized then that I had never looked right into someone else's eyes as they sang. It was especially notable to me because a lot of singers like to close their eyes during their performances, but Debra kept her gaze right on me. My friend came up, and I zapped back out to spot him some cash.
The concert was over in about 30 minutes. My friend started asking me for a gameplan to meet her. I figured there would be some kind of line, but no one was moving from their seats. Another act was getting ready to perform at 9. We both knew I had a limited amount of time to put my plan into action. We moved out to the bar on the side of the (small) room. My friend kept pushing me to walk up and introduce myself, but I insisted on waiting. Debra seemed to be going from group to group. Just when my friend, being the great wingman he is, was about to say something embarrassing to stop Debra, she came up to us.
I introduced myself, but only by first name. I tried to think of something to follow up with, but all I could think of was complimenting how well she did. My wingman tried to jump in and help as my mind tried to think of something to say, but literally nothing came out. I stood there totally flabbergasted at myself, for I wasn't nervous in the least. In fact, I hadn't been nervous all day long. I just didn't feel anything, and I wasn't sure why. My friend kept trying to keep the conversation going, and Debra even asked something, but whenever I said anything, it was always something short and to the point. I stood there completely confused with myself. This wasn't me. I'm not the shy quiet type, but here I was looking like I was actually nervous. And I could tell things were getting awkward. The background music got so loud to me that I literally couldn't hear anything Debra was saying. I strained as much as I could and cursed my subpar hearing. And still I couldn't think of anything to do or say.
Soon Debra left. My friend was shocked. He said this wasn't me at all. He pointed out plenty of other opportunities to talk to Debra for the next 10 minutes, but I just didn't do anything. It was like an out-of-body experience: My mind knew exactly what to do, yet my body didn't do anything. I didn't feel nervous, yet I didn't act like my normal confident self. Yet I didn't even feel unconfident. Soon I blew all my chances, and Debra left with her friend and brother. When my friend asked what happened, I told him I wasn't sure. I've literally never experienced this before. I was totally confused and disappointed in myself.
As I drove 20 minutes back home, all I could think about was for a logical reason for my reaction. Why would I clam up yet not be nervous? Why would I just go on autopilot?
I started reaching deep, and I suddenly came face-to-face with my single greatest fear: Getting into a relationship. I haven't been in a meaningful one in almost 7 years now, and I always figured it was because I just hadn't met the right person. I had either tried getting with different girls over the years or gone on a few dates, but nothing ever stuck or went deep in the least. I remembered I had told a friend a few months ago that I had built armor to keep girls from getting too close to me.
It was then that it all completely hit for me: I've become cold to the idea of letting a girl get that close to me. I worry that I'll be inadequate. I'm normally someone who wears his heart on his sleeve, but after getting burned badly seven years ago, I gave less and less of myself to girls to the point that I keep it surface-level.
What really scares me though isn't the full realization of this fear. It's the fact that I wasn't scared meeting Debra at all. I've subconsciously accepted the fact that I won't let girls in to get to know me, and the mere possibility of Debra reacting to me saying "I'm Chris Hewitt, and I wrote you a letter" made me instinctively react in the surest way to not let her even come close to getting to know me: Doing absolutely nothing.
Instead, I looked like a creeper. Yet I'm not depressed. And that really disturbs me. It bothers me that I'm such a personable guy who loves to be around people--and someone who other people love being around--yet I, without even thinking about it, close myself off to girls like it's nothing. I've seen the looks on peoples' faces when I tell them the story of Debra and the letter. I've truly never seen people so gripped by a story before. I wanted to deliver a happy ending.
But the main character in this story is tragically flawed, and he doesn't know how to fix himself.
![[FBC] Papa Mink](/data/avatars/l/166/166410.jpg?1363023093){kind=avatar}
