I sit on my bed. Unmade, of course (some things never change).
There is mess around me in my tiny room. A few items of clothing, expensive, should be hung up, lie on the floor from my trying-on session for the party.
Faded pictures of Marilyn on the wardrobe, frames stuffed with photos of friends, of family, of home, of theatre tickets, newspaper cuttings on the wall.
On the back of my door, a detailed toning work-out, hand written, above a list of dance classes.
A french-style dressing table, filled with hair-pins, perfumes, trinkets, business cards on the mirror.
A shelf of hats, a fan, a feather boa.
Today is the day. The day I waited for. The day I worked for and never lost faith in. As I've watched people gallop ahead of me or fall behind, have families, fall in love; as I've seen my relationships fall apart, my friends move away, this, this is the one thing I have always believed in.
It may sound "stagey", self-indulgent, or just dramatic, but every moment in my life has led up to this moment. Every school solo, every single one of the 600 agent letters, every audition. The 20 drama school applications that I kissed and wished upon as I posted them back in sleepy Somerset.
I almost feel numb. I don't feel surprised, I didn't feel overwhelmed as I stood out for first preview, because it felt so right. Finally, thank you world. For how long? Who knows. I'll be back waitressing in a Walthamstow restaurant in the blink of an eye. And that's ok.
Lost for words, I blankly sit staring at the screen. Tears come and go.
Breathe deep. Today will all be over tomorrow. But for now, bring it on.
No comments:
Post a Comment