Fini

The final test, the final show, and the final act won't be until tonight, but I've had quite a few rehearsals since that surreal Sunday afternoon--when I first became aware of the spotlight on my face, its blinding light and its sweltering heat, and of the audience I've been unknowingly entertaining for the past three weeks.

And looking back, I'm thinking I played my part quite well, in this weird play. In the first few acts, even as I was unaware there even was a play, I can say I handled it well. But it's these last few scenes that I'm determined to perfect. As I should, given that I've been writing, rewriting and memorizing lines, playing out scenarios, anticipating scene-change difficulties.

So what else could I do tonight, but pull it off? Pull it off, and pull it off magnificently? I know my lines, I know my place among the cast, I've been to two dress rehearsals, and I've been staying in character for the past four days. I've been laughing, giggling, gesturing excitedly whenever I talk to friends. I've immersed myself in the places significant to the plot.

But suddenly, I'm not so sure. Despite the hours and money spent on alcohol, analyses, phonecalls and emails, despite the endless pep talks and support-group meetings, I am unsure. Because my head is still reeling, and my heart... well, my heart is just pitching and rolling in the ocean of unshed tears inside my chest.