The Beautiful Truth

// 167

My ears were ringing.

I could seriously hear nothing. Maybe it was because my heart was beating so hard. This wasn't happening.

He said my name. That kid from Third Rock from the Sun had said my name. I won.

I. FUCKING. WON!

"Oh my God," I breathed. I was sure I'd been sitting there like a dummy for about 45 minutes after hearing my name. I felt like I was swimming through time right now.

In reality, it had been about 2 seconds, and everyone around me was standing and applauding and to my semi-functioning brain, I realized that's why my ears were ringing. Shock and applause. Hey, that might make a good album title. I'd have to tell Barton.

And then it dawned on me during what I should be recognizing as the biggest moment of my life—of my fledgling career—the first thought I had was of him. It steadied me. Because for all of the crazy things happening in my life at that very second—my dad jumping up and down, hugging me, Julian pretending to bow to me in praise as I moved down the aisle and up the stairs, Joseph Gordon-Levitt smiling his squinty smile as he handed over a fucking Oscar...I realized the craziest thing of all had happened long before all of this.

I'd fallen in love—wonderful, painful, consuming, blinding, exalting, overwhelming, beautiful love. I finally understood how my dad felt all those years. So long as she was out there, he would be OK. He didn't have to be close to her, he just had to exist with her. She was, even after everything they'd been through, always his true north. He hadn't lost it. He'd just stopped looking toward it.

And then his kid forced him back around and he'd never been happier. But what I had learned from all this was—love isn't something to avoid. Love isn't something to turn away. Love is real. Love is true. Love exists.

I hadn't really thought any of that was possible before Barton Black. Turns out, I just hadn't understood. Not for the first time, I realized that little girl who'd argued in English class about the notion of true love being blatantly idealistic was wrong. Maybe love isn't as straightforward as a fairy-tale. But it is the only thing that makes life worth living.

Knowing nothing could be crazier than a kid like me falling into this real love, I calmed down. If that was possible—if it was possible for someone who'd once been so jaded and cynical and faithless as I'd once been to find someone who understood her and loved her, and then loved all the versions of her thereafter, it was possible that I was winning an Academy Award.

There it was again—the beautiful truth. Not only is there beauty in the truth, there's also a quiet calm in the truth. I took a deep breath and stepped up to the microphone, which had been conveniently lowered to my height.

I paused for a beat and smiled.

"You know, you see these things on TV and you think 'oh, that looks like fun' but never in your life would you expect to actually go to one of these things, let alone..." I glanced down at the golden statue in my hand, realizing that if I didn't get on with it, they'd start playing me off stage.

Deep breath. "So. Who do I thank? Can you tell I didn't even dream I'd be here? I didn't plsn for this!""

Another deep breath. "Dad, of course, thank you for allowing me to share your story with the world again, and for opening up to me...in your own way when it came time to ask difficult questions. Thank you to Dr. Lucien Bovich for believing in me so much that you sent my script off to Hollywood without me knowing about it.

"And thank you to my beautiful cast and crew. Jordan, Hadley, Charlie, I love you all so much. Julian Carter, who breathed life into The Truth with his unbelievably talented directing. And Talyn Parrish... all your support with this movie and just...in life in general. And for letting us borrow your girlfriend," I winked at him. "Thank you Barton Black, for giving me the idea in the first place, and proving to me that crazier things could happen."

I'd have to explain that one later.

And with one last deep breath as the music started to play: "And thank you to Laurel Everett. It would be easy to stay mad at you forever, but I've learned, from all these people I just thanked and a few more that I can't squeeze into the 45 seconds I was given, that it takes so much more energy to be mad than it does to be happy. And I'm tired mom. I give in. So thank you. Thank you for bringing me into this world, and thank you for standing back while I figured out who I am. I'm kinda proud of myself. I hope you are, too."