it was always going to come down to this.
"I guess growing up with Cats I should’ve known it was always going to come down to this."
I sent that text to some friends in the middle of a discussion about closing. We've all been thinking about it, of course, and I've been writing about it basically non-stop. But collectively, we've really been avoiding the topic. Naturally, the conversation started after midnight, as all good deep conversations do.
But that's the thing, when you're like me and you grew up watching Cats, it's always been part of your life.
And I know it always will be.
Today's the day. I have to apologize for not updating sooner. I could tell you it's because of final exams, the holidays, traveling... but it's not. I haven't been able to make myself sit down and write. I used to turn to the written word to express my feelings about the show, but I've found that even that is impossible now. There's no way to accurately represent the sadness, pain, (and numbness) I've been feeling over the last few weeks. And I hate that, I really do. Because I feel it in my entire body. I know we all do. And no one else can quite understand that, although they try.
Yesterday was my 20th birthday, and what a day it was. Got sweet messages from my friends, Chris, and Tanner. Saw the show front row center. Rich the stage door guy took me and Tori and Stina and Connor backstage after so we could stand on the rake one more time and look out at the ghostlight, and remember.
Then we sat in McDonald's until the clock struck midnight, and we left.
And now it's today.
The schedule is simple. Dinner with the Junkyard at 5:30 across the street at Cosmic Diner. Secret Santa. Lot's of crying most likely. The show at 8:00. Then door, and then... what? Cease to exist? Fling myself into traffic? Cling to the building and refuse to let go? Do "Get Help" and have my friends throw me through the stage door as soon as it opens so I can't leave?
None of those are feasible options, but hey, a fella can hope.
I'm going to be recording detailed notes on what happens today so I can remember. And there will be a final post sometime after tonight. But don't expect it for a few days. Or weeks, maybe. I want it to be coherent as possible, and I know that won't be able to happen right away.
But you know what, there's still a whole other performance before the last one tonight. It's eight hours away. So we aren't going to think about the bad right now.
The last thing I'll leave you with is a self-indulgent (maybe bragging?) anecdote.
I wrote the cast closing letters, and the one for Chris was a lot softer than I expected it to be. The next day, he posted this on instagram:
I sent that text to some friends in the middle of a discussion about closing. We've all been thinking about it, of course, and I've been writing about it basically non-stop. But collectively, we've really been avoiding the topic. Naturally, the conversation started after midnight, as all good deep conversations do.
But that's the thing, when you're like me and you grew up watching Cats, it's always been part of your life.
And I know it always will be.
Today's the day. I have to apologize for not updating sooner. I could tell you it's because of final exams, the holidays, traveling... but it's not. I haven't been able to make myself sit down and write. I used to turn to the written word to express my feelings about the show, but I've found that even that is impossible now. There's no way to accurately represent the sadness, pain, (and numbness) I've been feeling over the last few weeks. And I hate that, I really do. Because I feel it in my entire body. I know we all do. And no one else can quite understand that, although they try.
 |
| Photo credit: Rich (Stage Door Dood) Miranda |
Yesterday was my 20th birthday, and what a day it was. Got sweet messages from my friends, Chris, and Tanner. Saw the show front row center. Rich the stage door guy took me and Tori and Stina and Connor backstage after so we could stand on the rake one more time and look out at the ghostlight, and remember.
 |
| Photo credit: Tori Guerrero |
And now it's today.
The schedule is simple. Dinner with the Junkyard at 5:30 across the street at Cosmic Diner. Secret Santa. Lot's of crying most likely. The show at 8:00. Then door, and then... what? Cease to exist? Fling myself into traffic? Cling to the building and refuse to let go? Do "Get Help" and have my friends throw me through the stage door as soon as it opens so I can't leave?
None of those are feasible options, but hey, a fella can hope.
I'm going to be recording detailed notes on what happens today so I can remember. And there will be a final post sometime after tonight. But don't expect it for a few days. Or weeks, maybe. I want it to be coherent as possible, and I know that won't be able to happen right away.
But you know what, there's still a whole other performance before the last one tonight. It's eight hours away. So we aren't going to think about the bad right now.
The last thing I'll leave you with is a self-indulgent (maybe bragging?) anecdote.
I wrote the cast closing letters, and the one for Chris was a lot softer than I expected it to be. The next day, he posted this on instagram:
"But then again, haven't they all been for Nat, really? In some way?"
I still don't know what to make of that. But what I DO know, is that this entire cast has changed my life in all the best ways, and if I've made even a fraction of that same impact on any of them, it will all have been worth it.
Comments
Post a Comment