I'm not even sure why I didn't cry.
The tears were there, the way they well up and remained trapped behind your eyes.
It got harder to swallow as the brink of a cry was stuck in my throat.
The actress was so mesmerizing I was literally breathing with her.
I'd been in bed for three days since my surgery and by the third night I had to get out of the house.
I was also dreadfully sick of being alone and I wanted to be around people.
Even if I was sitting alone, I just needed to be near others.
A friend of mine went with me and I had no idea what to expect from the show.
Although, 'The Rape of Lucrece' should have been an indicator that I wasn't seeing a light hearted comedy.
It was one woman singing and reciting the poem for 80 minutes and there wasn't a second of that I was bored.
I was literally on the edge of my seat.
She was so captivating.
The piece was so intense and dramatic I thought how much she had to give of herself for that role.
And I wondered if the people she cared about came to see her perform.
Because she was riveting.
And I thought how much of myself I poured into my own role and that was such a fun, silly part.
For something as emotionally demanding as what I saw, for how much of her own heart she clearly poured into the part, I hoped for her sake the people she loved were in the audience.
I was so moved by her performance that I waited for her to come out just so I could give her a hug and tell her how beautiful her performance was.
At the end of the poem Lucrece dies and the part that stirred me the most was when the father was mourning his daughters death.
For some reason, I suddenly thought of The Phantom.
And how I genuinely thought he might die.
(I mean, shit. I was supposed to see him and then he couldn't meet because he woke up with blood coming out his eyes. BLOOD. In his EYES! That shit was all so scary and I wasn't even the one going through it. And hearing from him so inconsistently. And then not seeing him for so long on top of it?!! It was too much.)
In hindsight, I realize I shouldn't have held onto my crush so fervently for quite so long.
But I really don't think my feelings would have been quite so intense if fear and worry and anxiety hadn't all been such huge factors.
We should have just been getting drunk and having sex.
Then the relationship could have played itself out like any other one.
I guess I don't really blame him for just pushing me away.
It probably seemed much simpler to him than letting some strange girl he barely knew into a world of so much pain.
Hindsight's like that, I guess.
Clear only after you're far enough away to focus on the truth.
I don't think I was wrong either, though.
No one who cared as deeply as I did could ever accept being pushed out of someone's life when you were so concerned for their well being.
And I hope one day he sees that.
And realizes I wasn't wrong either.
I hope a lot of things.
But mostly I hope that my next performance is as inspired as the one I saw.
There's nothing quite like genuine passion to stir the soul.
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