You Learn to Live Without

Last summer myself, B and our friend Arin were invited to a big gay lawn party in Provincetown, Massachusetts and one of the other guests in attendance was Michael Greif, the director of the original production of Rent, which won four Tony Awards and a Pulitzer Prize in 1996. Although I have mentioned my obsession with Rent on this web log a time or two before (I've seen it fourteen times on Broadway), I would like to say again that it truly changed my life. The first time that I saw Rent was at the Nederlander Theatre on West 41st Street during a road trip to New York with four of my best friends as a teenager and it broke my heart and gave me hope and made me think and so I bought the two-disk original Broadway cast recording at one of the theater's concession stands for $45 immediately following the show and listened to it non-stop for the rest of the summer and I think it's the real reason that I chose to attend NYU. Anyway, after I got done drunkenly telling all of those things to Mr. Greif at the aforementioned big gay lawn party (see above photo), he told me that he'd been working on a new musical that had recently opened on Broadway called If/Then and because I had just left Lyft and wasn't due to start my new gig at CloudFlare for a couple of weeks I headed to the Big Apple from P-Town a few days later and saw Mr. Greif's new show and loved it so damn hard. One of the show's songs, a powerful, tear-jerking number in the second act, is about the main character's attempt to move on after losing a loved one. It's called You Learn to Live Without and although I've had it on my iPod it ever since I first heard Idina Menzel sing it during the performance that I attended a year ago, it wasn't until recently that its incredibly apt message about grief really struck a cord with me and so I'm gonna stash it down below because, well, fuck.