I have some tough months ahead of me.

I feel like the emcee at the end of Cabaret. "In here, life is beautiful... the girls are beautiful... even the orchestra is..."

And with no explanation from either of us as to how we fell out of love, she leaves in a week and a half.

it's funny. We lived together for 2 and a half months.
And she still doesn't know when my birthday is.
The ignorance has never been this bad in any of my relationships.
We didn't even try.

This is the most surreal relationship I've ever had.
But it reaffirms one thing... I'm not here for her.
I'm here for Nine 11.

At least it makes me appreciate past experiences more in some aspects. I get out of it what I put into it.

So, without entertianing public ideas for the new performing arts center, the LMDC took it upon themselves to select an organization to take on the prospect of opening a theatre in Lower Manhattan. Well, I guess because they own the actual property, they have every right, but I have dedicated my life to writing this project for the families of Nine 11, and I MUST OPEN IT THERE.

THERE, ON THE GROUNDS WHERE THEY DIED. Theatre is only a useful tool if it holds the mirror up to nature. And you can be damned sure that that's my full intention.

With everything bad going on right now, and Nine 11's vastness trying to be sorted through, it sometimes is difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel. One person who has always stuck by me is Shelby. I cannot be more thankful for this woman, even though I disappear from her life sometimes without a trace. I cannot tell you how much it means to me that she's happy and she's found her happiness with her soon-to-be husband.

She wrote me this email in February of 2000, and then sent it to me today because she knew I was down. She wrote this email immediately following Joseph and I can't help but be appreciative of what this girl has given me in the brief time we spent while she was down here.

Shelebs... thanks again. I love you so much.

===================================================
APPLAUSE! APPLAUSE! APPLAUSE!

Thank you so much for magically vacating the best seats in the house for me
and my mother.  She has only just stopped talking about the details of both
you and the play because my father beckoned her to bed.  Her assessment of
the play... "unbelievably spectacular!"  My mom is a details woman and none
of your acute work was wasted on her.  My mom's assessment of you...
"Brilliant, and what fine broad shoulders.  He's a handsome boy, isn't he?" 
Like I said, she appreciates beautiful details when she sees them.

The show was even better the second time through.  The last night improvs
cracked me up.  I love watching actors enjoy their parts, each other, and the
play.  You've given them all something that they will never forget.  You
gave them, and your audiences, a chance to dream right along with you. 
Thanks.

I know that I've mentioned this before (redundencey stops me as often as
poor spelling) but Man of La Mancha is my favorite play.  You've reminded me
of Don Quixote.

"When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies?  Too much
sanity may be madness.  To seek treasure where there is only trash.  Perhaps
to be practical is madness.  And maddest of all, to see life as it is and not
as it ought to be."

"To reach the unreachable star, though you know it's impossibly high, to
live with your heart striving upward, to a far unattainable sky!"

I don't mean to sound contrived, only sincere.  Few people dream.  Even
fewer hope for that dream to become a reality.  You poured yourself into
this and birthed an incredible piece of artistry, community, and hope.  I
admire you, your vision, desire, and commitment.  Congratulations, Matty, on
a job and life well done.  I can't wait to see what'll happen next.  Maybe
someday you can direct the play that I'm writing.  Whatever it is, I hope I
can be there, front and center, in some poor shmucks' usurped seats.

It's odd.  We rarely see each other, but when we do, I feel intuitively
understood.  I'm glad I could be there tonight and Friday.  I think you and
I need to get KTB a kareoke machine for her wedding.  I hope you liked the
dozen flowers.  DON'T put them in water and they'll keep forever.

Hope you had a fabulous final performance celebration.  Now you can sleep,
for a little while anyway.  When you recover, we should figure out a
celtics, bruins, wrestling trip or something.  Oh, and there's a movie you
should see..."The Cradle Will Rock."  It's in theaters now.  I saw it with
my buddy in New Orleans.  It is incredibly well done, and I left wanting to
lead a revolution, learn piano, and preach the word of the theater.  I need
to see it again, and you should definitely go.

Well, I hate receiving long emails.  I always lose my attention half way
through.  I hope this one wasn't too dreadful.  You must excuse me, but I
just saw this great play tonight, and I'm on an expressive role.  Congrats
again.  Enjoy the afterglow.

Love you.
Shelby

Well, I'm working on the animation part of the Nine 11 site... you can see the preliminary stuff at http://www.nine-11-the-musical.com/nine11.html

I actually started over because I wanted the 3D effect... now I have to figure out a way to bring down the size of the files so that it doesn't kill the load time.

Kathy and I are officially over, although we still live with each other. It's strange, living with a stranger in the apartment, yet that's how it's felt for months up to this point anyway. To say I'm sad about it is an understatement, but the world turns, and with past experiences, I've learned to finally turn with it as opposed to trying to stop it and reverse its course.

And I'm still mad about Jesus Christ Superstar. =)