Harvey Fierstein - I Was Better Last Night: A Memoir

I was his road not taken. He was retiring from an upstate white-collar job, reassessing his life choices and seeking a path forward.

I know I really messed things up between us. I never gave us the chance to be happy. Thats all going to change now. Im going to be the lover you always wanted and deserved. Okay, Harvey?

Well I stuttered. UhHow about we have dinner next time youre down here?

Harvey. Did you hear what I just said?

I think so.

And?

You sound maybe a littleAre you okay?

Are you fucking kidding me? Youve been begging me to do this for years!

Forty years ago.

I dont believe you. What are you saying? Im too old? Youre older than I am! And Im in a hell of a lot better shape than you ever were.

How about I drive up there and we can talk?

You know what? Fuck you! Youre a selfish fucking prick. You can go fuck yourself! And dont call me again.

You called meHello?Hello?

Only science and mathematics offer do-overs. History may echo but never repeats. Humans struggle to get a recipe right twice in a row. I cant count the times Ive had friends visit after a performance only to hear myself say, I was better last night. Of course I was better last night. I was younger, fresher, braver, and had one less day of life clogging my brain. But most of all, it was last night. Time upgrades survival to triumph.

So, if you cant go back, whats the harm in looking back?

Twelve Step programs counsel Look back, but dont stare. Wonder why? Because its fucking painful! Im sitting comfortably at this lovely computer in my homey home office and almost everything coming to mind is about what an asshole I was and am still capable of being. So many stupid mistakes. So much selfishness and ego-driven thoughtlessness to bathe in. Sure, I recall the victories and joys and laughs and lovers, but for reasons beyond me, those happier remembrances are cloudy, dimmed, and distanced. I have to reach for them. Whereas the miseries and hurt, every mistake, misfortune, and betrayal I endured or delivered remains conveniently at my fingertips. The guns are loaded, the knives still cut, and the adage Time heals everything makes a lovely lyric but is a fucking lie. Time heals nothing. Amnesia doesnt come in a bottle. It doesnt. Trust me. I tried that. Pain and regret are our brains legacy residents with great views and easy access to the world outside.

In Twelve Step work we look back to identify the bad stuff we are responsible for and, if its possible to do so without causing more harm, we make amends for our wrongdoing. I recommend this cleansing exercise of exorcising. Suddenly, glancing over your shoulder is less frightening. There are fewer shadowy figures following you. You are freer to move about unencumbered, knowing that the scary shit of the past has been peaceably entombed. Unfortunately, entombed is not destroyed. It waits quietly in the dark for someone to dig it up again. Bad shit is patient.

So, here I am with my work clothes on and my shovel in hand. If youre willing to listen, Im willing to dig.