I sat on the ground, well squatted really, at the Sundance Film Festival. You could say I was hiding. In the parking lot. How lame can you get? Really now, you would probably think that someone as "smart" as I am would have more imagination, but apparently not. Last night, I had gotten reamed out by my manager for buying a pack of cigarettes. I still didn't know why I had even bought the dang things, but here I was sitting on the ground, smoking.
If I were actually going to be honest with myself, I probably would say that I missed Rob. But that was just ridiculous, or that was -- at least -- what I kept telling myself. I just wanted to try it out. I wouldn't get past that part of the explanation in my head. Whenever I tried, a certain pair of clear gray eyes like winter storm clouds floated into my head like their heavenly counterparts and refused to budge.
I had a lot of questions, but they mostly boiled down to one thing: Robert Pattinson. Ever since he had walked into the audition room in Catherine's house, he had been a tantalizing reminder of the relationship that I didn't have, and at this rate, probably would never have. The adult sort of relationship that everyone dreams of. Their perfect man coming to sweep them away, with just that little edge of danger, the daring of their love. Rob certainly had that one down, the danger bit anyway. He smelled like mints, and cigarettes, even though most people found that sort of smell disgusting, it was almost sexy the way he wore it. He walked into a room and quietly commanded the attention of everyone in it. He was a leader by example, not force. I took a long drag of the cigarette I was holding and relished in the smoky smell of it. How much I had been missing. Ah Rob…. No! I had told myself I wouldn't go there! I had predetermined that I wouldn't think about him that way. We were costars. That was it.
One was, why did I have the guitar (very expensive guitar) that he had gotten me for my birthday carefully packed into the back of the car I had arrived here in? Was it really because I "wished to practice my music, and that's the only guitar I have, thank you very much" as I had told everyone else? I couldn't honestly answer "yes" to that. Whenever I had said that I was "thinking about music" I was really just sitting there with the guitar on my lap, feeling the tears well up in my eyes, wishing for Rob to hug me. I blew out the smoky breath that I had been holding in and looked around me again. The great Kristen, hiding behind a Honda.
And I guess, if I searched my soul long enough, I could find what it boiled down to. Truly. And why not now? Here I was, sitting miserable, on the ground, next to a dirty-ish pile of snow, and I still didn't have an answer to "the most basic question" as Edward would say. Although in my case, it wasn't what I fed my body. It was what I fed my soul. What my soul had was clearly enough in the material sense of the words that formed the question. I had a family, I had money, I had a job I loved, and I had 'love.' But was it the love that was the love of adults, dangerous, sexy, and daring? Or was it the petty love of teenagers, unremarkable, natural, and predictable in every way? I still couldn't tell, but if I were to truly search my soul, I would answer; people might not like my answer, but I would answer. That answer would be…. Did I really want to know? Or was it just to decide the course of my life? Could both of those be correct? I was confused. I took another drag on the cigarette and quickly exhaled. Rob would have called them "ciggies." That thought made me laugh a little bit.
But, I suppose I've been avoiding the question. What I had was the "petty love of teenagers." What I wanted was so different, so far from that. I couldn't even think of Michael and Robert in the same class as each other. It was truly unimaginable.
So, as I sat on the ground of the parking lot and Sundance, I finally decided that I wanted Rob. Pure and simple. That didn't mean I could get him. But I finally came to terms with what my body was trying to tell me: I wanted him.