No one is there

Playwrite

I felt sick getting ready.

The good kind.

Where the knots all bundled together, and you want to stuff your face with any food on hand and throw it up all at once.

I draw the two black lines across my lids to perfection.

I knew you'd notice if a single spec was out of place,

so I took meticulous care,
of my hair and makeup.

I borrowed my mother's pearls.

Wore my tall pinchy shoes.

The blue blouse wasn't my first pick,

but the color reminded me of the girls I thought
you liked.

So I wore it.

I remember everything starting late.

And I was so

anxious.

Scared.

And excited.

And rightly so,

When I saw you,
I felt my heart flutter,
and the tension disappear.
And everything else faded out,
as I watched

you.

I had a smile on my face the whole time you were up there.
And I fought my frown Every Time you went away.
I've never been so happy for someone to have so many roles.

No matter what,
my eyes scanned
the stage.

Searching for the one face shining out above the rest.

Dimples, creased eyes, and all.

Those heart flutters came back each time I saw an entrance.

And at the end of the show my feet
shuffled me out to find you because I couldn't wait any longer.

I'll never forget how your smile lit
up the dull crowded entranceway.

And how I felt to know it was aimed at me.

A water bottle meant I was perfect.

And a hug never felt so much like home.

And I got up the nerve to finally tell you everything I had ever felt.

And it paid off.

At least. It did in my head,
And as much as it hurt for you to say no, I'd like to remember it the way I wrote it instead.

C. G.