Sometimes We Break

     I’m a performer. For four months of my life, I give up my weekends to go and perform and learn how to be better at what I do. It’s my second year doing this and I love what I do. I’ve had a tough time figuring out where I fit in the scheme of things this year. First year was full of learning new things and getting adjusted to the performance side as opposed to the audience. I still want to be here and I still love doing what I do and I’m far from quitting. I love the people and all they bring. Second year seems full of things that are easier, yet harder. I know more what to expect and what’s expected of me. Yet, finding my place and ways to be better are harder.

     This past Sunday broke me. It’s going to take some time to fix the pieces. I’ve had a lot of self-doubts this year as both a person and a performer and Sunday they all came to a head. I know I could have gone home. Truthfully, I didn’t because I know I would have wound up on the couch or wandering through my place crying and alone. I’m off three days in a row this week and I know I’m going to do enough of that then. Sometimes you just need other people there for a few hugs and a few words and maybe a dance or two. Tomorrow, I’ll curl up on the couch and read and watch TV in between the tears. Maybe I’ll see if I can get a three musketeers bar and some sour cream and onion ruffles. I’ll put on the music that helps and I’ll go from there.

     I’m a musical creature. Certain moments in time or in our lives are defined by songs and lyrics. These are the things we quote to help get us through moments. They are the best expressions of what we are feeling in ways we can’t really explain otherwise. My soundtrack at the moment includes the following songs, amongst others:

“In My Life” from Les Miserables

“Hold On” by Sarah McLachlan

“Seven-Nine Central” by Courtney Fairchild from the Right Here album

Evita the American Premier Recording (I’m a sucker for Mandy Patinkin’s Che)

     Though the situations are different and the genders aren’t always the same as in some of the songs I choose, they somehow are comforting. I can listen and cry as need be. Then maybe I’ll start being a little better. Sometimes it helps to get it out and move from there.

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     And now, some vague-posting because sometimes you just can’t say things face to face and the written word is more eloquent; or at least a little bit better sounding than what could/would have been said. Or I’m just too scared to say it face to face.

I know you know why. And when someone said I was fine- I wasn't; but I wasn't going to say anything, especially with other people around. You already know I have stock answers for things. All I really wanted was a decent hug and maybe a few words.

You do really well at just being a friend. You’re pep talks work too, even if you don’t think so.

You’re really well at patron interactions. I know it’s not what you usually do, but when you do, you do well.

The two of you are some of the very few people who would call my bluff are some things. You are also two of the only people who I’d allow to do that. For that, I am grateful.

Thanks for the flowers. They made the weekend a little brighter.