A lot has happened since my last post. Nothing momentous, just the tedium of an everyday life. I’ve been in two shows, I Hate Hamlet and I’m writing this before the second weekend of Thoroughly Modern Millie.

But I do not write this blog for a regular update. I’m sad. I’m depressed. I’m angry at the Universe. Or whatever name I choose to call my situational fate. Call it situational depression, if you will. I get down when I think of what I have not. Yes, I try to count my blessings: I have food, shelter, and quite importantly my health. But survival is not enough. It is not enough to simply live on this planet, to breathe and to eat and to deficate and to use up resources and contribute to global warming and then to die. I need more. I need to be needed.

I tell myself not to compare my situation to others. There will always be others worse off and better off than me. But I can’t help but look at my immediate family: I am one of six cousins on my mom’s side. Two of them are expecting their first kids. The other two have both announced their engagements to be married. And there is my sister rounding out the count: she’s living with her boyfriend in L.A.

And then there’s me. Living alone. Loving none. Pitying myself and lamenting my loneliness for all the good it does nobody. I have no appreciable income. My latest show is drawing to a close so I will have no regular group of social friends to meet on weekends. I am alone with only my thoughts. And those thoughts sadly make me sad.

Then I ask myself, “what am I doing wrong?” But how can I be anything other than my quintessential self?

I only wish this gaping hole in my heart to be filled with the light of another—someone to care for me as I her.

So I plead with you, oh digital Universe, to send her my way. I ask you in the only way I know how. Let this blog be my prayer. Send some help before I sink too far to recognize her smile.

I have no regrets and feel no shame for this entry. I resolve to stop bullshitting and tell it like it is. I don’t want to die the day after tomorrow only to find I accomplished nothing yesterday.

If I were to live this day as if it were my last, then I should leave this note for those who may not know: JA - you are beautiful and kind, I hope you find peace on your journey and a kind soul to help you along your way. AD - I wish you could feel for me as I do for you, but you can not be in that place right now. Nevertheless it has been wonderful watching you and sharing in a small part of your life. You may never know how highly I think if you; if only you could give to me what is needed to destroy that illusion of mine, I would be a happier man for it.

And for mystery girl - where the hell are you? Isn’t it about time you showed up? I don’t want to be 49 before I find you!! I’m starting to doubt you even exist. I hold on to hope only because it’s my only option. The alternative is … as yet some horribly unimagined fate. I know I have the capacity to love. I’ve done it before and may yet do it again. But my heart is weary from giving so much with so little in return. My dream word, the one word I hold onto that will some day be the bliss of my existence is “requited.”