Sunday, April 10, 2011

the hardest part about work

I work because I want to.
Because I love it.
Because, omg, this is me and this is my life and no one will believe me now but,
tired as I am,
I'm desperately holding on to this last minute dash.
Some people are looking forward to SYF being over, I'm wondering what will be left of me when it is.
My kids, this production. Me doing everything I know how to do. Me trying. Me watching them try.

I love my job. It's not even just a job, it's been my life for the longest time.
How do I just put it all down?

"I don't just love the drama teacher part of you, you know," she told me once, "I love you, just you."
Except sometimes it's difficult to see myself for anything beyond all of this. And for the most part of my life, I haven't minded that. I've loved that actually. How I have lived and breathed the performing arts.
But now, just sometimes, it scares me.

What happens after, when the house lights come on and the curtains draw closed?

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