When I ran in to ____ last week it was without flourish– A quick hug- howsitgoing- let’s catch up… she wanted to fuck _____ once. I remember her talking about him in trig… “he’s kind of teddy bear curly hair theatre blah blah blah…” I punished him with silence for holding her hand in public and he fled from her because he feared her aggressive sexuality. He was blind to my retribution, of course… and she moved on and found a lover who could handle her advances… I mean- she was always with some dude…

When we talked about our chosen careers- when I ran in to ____ last week, I mean- I (privately) recalled my theatrical swan song… a bit part in The Vagina Monologues that left me feeling lonely and reminded me why I had to relinquish or believed I had to relinquish or was forced to feel I had to relinquish my claim to the stage… last curtain call… how was she always so goddamn confident? Was it a mask?

When I ran in to ____ last week I told myself- All the world is your stage now… you can go on playing the role of someone who never smelled that black paint or felt the absolute darkness in those moments between scenes and who never wanted to balance her invisibility in real life with flames of some character who never felt quite so not there… how did she come to resemble me so very much when I have abandoned all efforts to resemble her? (is it my hair? I have much better hair…)

Written by Sally

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