More bruisin than Cruz-in.

As you get older, you’re forced to face some of the realities of life.

Mainly, death.

But there are others, too. For example:

I will never sleep with Penélope Cruz.

Javier Bardem’s wife never returns any of my texts and my calls go straight to voicemail. I’ve joked about this before, but when I really think about it, it saddens me in such a profound way that can only be mollified by a few minutes on Netflix or YouPorn.

I will never be famous.

I’m not exactly sure why I wanted to be famous, but I know it had to do with that whole wanting to be adored thing, or the potentially sleeping with Penélope Cruz thing (I mean, look at her!) and, of course, my mom. When I was a kid, I used to watch the Academy Awards with her and she’d get all excited when they presented the Oscar for best screenwriter because the winner would invariably thank their folks. “That’ll be you up there one day,” she’d say while blowing Marlboro smoke in my face. “Don’t forget to thank me!” Believe it or not, I always thought that it would be me up there one day. But since it won’t, here’s the end of my fantasy acceptance speech: “And finally, I’d like to thank my mom who loved me in a way that I’m still trying to figure out.”

I will never be too rich or thin.

I’ve never had a lot of money. I grew up unreasonably poor and have done way better than my parents did as an adult, but we were never swimming in cash, although we did, for a time, have a pool. Aboveground. But still. The truth is that if I ever had a lot of money, I’d only have half of it now. And I love bread and butter way too much to ever fit into my skinny jeans.

I will never believe in God.

I’ve tried. God, I’ve tried. And I’m still trying. If only He gave me a sign … GODDAMNIT! My chest! It feels … vise around … heart. ARGHH! Okay! Okay! I give! I give! Jeez! You are such a fucking showoff!

I will never be happy.

I’ve been wrestling with this one for so long that I’m not even sure what it means anymore. I’ve certainly known happiness in my life, and hope to Hell I can squeeze in a little more of it before the inescapable realities really start to bite. But I don’t think I’ve ever been an especially happy person and that’s with and without meds. Which is not to say that I’m not a lot of fun to be around. Or don’t know how to have a good time. It’s just who I am and who I’ve always been and likely, who I’ll always be. Unless I sleep with … oh, nevermind.

I will never find the woman of my dreams.