And now it's over.
And for the closing weekend, I was cursed with bronchitis.
As I felt the illness come on this past Thursday, it was enough to make me cry. Gods no, I don't want to get anyone sick. My #3 will surely back off, and my most important query will needs be met with, at best, courteous refusal. As it was, I was sure at the brush-up and immediately following that he was backing off ever so slightly. Might the mere mention of questions (with all that might be implied by saying alcohol was needed to suggest them) have caused him to realize my attraction might be serious and therefore pushed him away?
Perhaps this is over before is has begun. The idea of losing our backstage closeness, light and wonderful flirtation is enough to start me mourning the loss of the show three days early.
I pushed through the last three shows very well so no one in the audience knew I was ill. Pleasantly, #3 claimed no fear of this illness and still gave me hugs, smooches on the head, and while there was much less of the cuddles, they were still there. Occasionally I thought they were there just for my sake (I don't want a pity cuddle, dammit!) but like I've sad, I can be a very insecure lady. I'm blaming this feeling on that. Meanwhile our on-stage love has only increased and become more intense and beautiful. What a wonderful final weekend.
Of course, with all this pushing, that meant by the time the cast party rolled around, I was losing my voice at a frightening pace.
My dear #2 could not make it to the party. Well, dammitalltoheck.
We were the only two people to write cards to the whole cast, and our cards to each other were filled with our love and appreciation of each other, with just enough of our flirtation and recognition of mutual attraction.
Now there's a crush I can handle: marvelous mutual friend-love, delightful playful lust. There are questions involved, but the foundation is firm. I love this girl. I'm gonna miss her so much. We hug, she nuzzles my boobs, and feel thankful to have her in my life. She makes a better actor of me. I want to work with her for the rest of my life if I can manage it. Thank you lady.
You know how I promised to ask #3 a whole bevy of questions, all to be delivered at this cast party?
He and I are not flirting that night as I would like, though I'm so happy I can announce his appeal openly (it is a shared declaration amongst several ladies, announced jocundly, and his wife is in Philadelphia for the weekend.... damn this bronchitis...).
The conversation was thoroughly entertaining at its height. I sat with my boyfriend, my sister, #3, and three people from the other major community theater group in this section of Queens (a couple I really like [Jimmy and Amanda] and another gentleman I just met). The conversation turned so that us ladies could express our intense pleasure when our boys discuss physics. I mentioned the time my boyfriend started explaining string theory to me...
WARNING: I have a TREMENDOUS weakness for nerdy science talk, especially quantum physics. Really, anything scholarly that you are passionate about will do it for me. You have no idea.
...at which point #3 chimes in discussing quantum physics. I stop him. "Dude, you're already hot enough, you can't do this to me." This works for me. It's still funny, but has a sense of joking seriousness to it, all is fun.
And then AMANDA turns the conversation to fractals. Fractals. All three of them are now talking fractals. I walk around the table. Kiss each of the boys on the head for it. I get to her and ask if I can kiss her for her fractals. She's all excited. Then I surprise myself. I kiss her. On the lips.
Understand, I know I've met this lady before, but this conversation is the most involved one we've ever had. We might as well have just met for the first time. I don't kiss people I've just met.
This time, I did.
It was adorable and delightful. She's a hoot. I like her a lot.
By now we're at a point of the evening when I realize my body is in shit shape. My voice is simply disappearing. The boys are outside smoking Cuban cigars that #3 brought back from his trip to the Dominican Republic. I'm trying to find some time to corner #3 so I can start to ask these queries before I have nothing left.
Time is running out. Everyone is leaving. A little more conversation is had, but I feel the chance, like my voice, slipping away.
The questions swirl around in my head, all with far more confession from me than real information from him.
"Are you always such a cuddle bunny?"
"Was it just because I was your ingenue?"
"Are you just a flirt, like me?"
"What are your limits?"
"What does you wife feel about this?"
"What does she know about this?"
And more.
But in the end, when I finally caught him for a minute, I only asked him one:
"May I kiss you?"
"Yes."
And I did.
It was soft, without intensity, followed by hugs and smooched on the cheek.
It was not quite what I was looking for, but in a show where we spent all our time almost kissing, if was a necessary resolution. Thank gods. Still, I wish I could feel that he wanted it. That is the point, after all.
I suppose that's it.
Still I am sad. The sadness was cast over the evening.
Separate from all of this crush business, I think I will miss this show more than anyone else involved. This makes sense. I was the only one involved in each aspect of the production: its creation (my secret role as assistant director and public roles as sound designer, music director and choreographer), its technical development (my handling of most stage management responsibilities until hell week), and its performance (as a thrilled member of the cast acting with people I cherish). Plus, the significance of having songs I wrote sung live each night had a personal significance which I think few could estimate properly.
This show was not perfect, but it was oh so good. For me and my boyfriend, I could easily consider it our first child. I loved it so much, even when I hated it a little. And now it's gone.
Goodbye Tempest.
And for the closing weekend, I was cursed with bronchitis.
As I felt the illness come on this past Thursday, it was enough to make me cry. Gods no, I don't want to get anyone sick. My #3 will surely back off, and my most important query will needs be met with, at best, courteous refusal. As it was, I was sure at the brush-up and immediately following that he was backing off ever so slightly. Might the mere mention of questions (with all that might be implied by saying alcohol was needed to suggest them) have caused him to realize my attraction might be serious and therefore pushed him away?
Perhaps this is over before is has begun. The idea of losing our backstage closeness, light and wonderful flirtation is enough to start me mourning the loss of the show three days early.
I pushed through the last three shows very well so no one in the audience knew I was ill. Pleasantly, #3 claimed no fear of this illness and still gave me hugs, smooches on the head, and while there was much less of the cuddles, they were still there. Occasionally I thought they were there just for my sake (I don't want a pity cuddle, dammit!) but like I've sad, I can be a very insecure lady. I'm blaming this feeling on that. Meanwhile our on-stage love has only increased and become more intense and beautiful. What a wonderful final weekend.
Of course, with all this pushing, that meant by the time the cast party rolled around, I was losing my voice at a frightening pace.
My dear #2 could not make it to the party. Well, dammitalltoheck.
We were the only two people to write cards to the whole cast, and our cards to each other were filled with our love and appreciation of each other, with just enough of our flirtation and recognition of mutual attraction.
Now there's a crush I can handle: marvelous mutual friend-love, delightful playful lust. There are questions involved, but the foundation is firm. I love this girl. I'm gonna miss her so much. We hug, she nuzzles my boobs, and feel thankful to have her in my life. She makes a better actor of me. I want to work with her for the rest of my life if I can manage it. Thank you lady.
You know how I promised to ask #3 a whole bevy of questions, all to be delivered at this cast party?
He and I are not flirting that night as I would like, though I'm so happy I can announce his appeal openly (it is a shared declaration amongst several ladies, announced jocundly, and his wife is in Philadelphia for the weekend.... damn this bronchitis...).
The conversation was thoroughly entertaining at its height. I sat with my boyfriend, my sister, #3, and three people from the other major community theater group in this section of Queens (a couple I really like [Jimmy and Amanda] and another gentleman I just met). The conversation turned so that us ladies could express our intense pleasure when our boys discuss physics. I mentioned the time my boyfriend started explaining string theory to me...
WARNING: I have a TREMENDOUS weakness for nerdy science talk, especially quantum physics. Really, anything scholarly that you are passionate about will do it for me. You have no idea.
...at which point #3 chimes in discussing quantum physics. I stop him. "Dude, you're already hot enough, you can't do this to me." This works for me. It's still funny, but has a sense of joking seriousness to it, all is fun.
And then AMANDA turns the conversation to fractals. Fractals. All three of them are now talking fractals. I walk around the table. Kiss each of the boys on the head for it. I get to her and ask if I can kiss her for her fractals. She's all excited. Then I surprise myself. I kiss her. On the lips.
Understand, I know I've met this lady before, but this conversation is the most involved one we've ever had. We might as well have just met for the first time. I don't kiss people I've just met.
This time, I did.
It was adorable and delightful. She's a hoot. I like her a lot.
By now we're at a point of the evening when I realize my body is in shit shape. My voice is simply disappearing. The boys are outside smoking Cuban cigars that #3 brought back from his trip to the Dominican Republic. I'm trying to find some time to corner #3 so I can start to ask these queries before I have nothing left.
Time is running out. Everyone is leaving. A little more conversation is had, but I feel the chance, like my voice, slipping away.
The questions swirl around in my head, all with far more confession from me than real information from him.
"Are you always such a cuddle bunny?"
"Was it just because I was your ingenue?"
"Are you just a flirt, like me?"
"What are your limits?"
"What does you wife feel about this?"
"What does she know about this?"
And more.
But in the end, when I finally caught him for a minute, I only asked him one:
"May I kiss you?"
"Yes."
And I did.
It was soft, without intensity, followed by hugs and smooched on the cheek.
It was not quite what I was looking for, but in a show where we spent all our time almost kissing, if was a necessary resolution. Thank gods. Still, I wish I could feel that he wanted it. That is the point, after all.
I suppose that's it.
Still I am sad. The sadness was cast over the evening.
Separate from all of this crush business, I think I will miss this show more than anyone else involved. This makes sense. I was the only one involved in each aspect of the production: its creation (my secret role as assistant director and public roles as sound designer, music director and choreographer), its technical development (my handling of most stage management responsibilities until hell week), and its performance (as a thrilled member of the cast acting with people I cherish). Plus, the significance of having songs I wrote sung live each night had a personal significance which I think few could estimate properly.
This show was not perfect, but it was oh so good. For me and my boyfriend, I could easily consider it our first child. I loved it so much, even when I hated it a little. And now it's gone.
Goodbye Tempest.
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Hope you feel better!