The Performer

I've always loved to act, to play pretend. All my life I have been a performer of sorts. As a child I would put on performances for my parents and as I grew, so did my productions. I always gave it my all, from my private elementary school plays to my high school drama class.

My parents said I was born for the spotlight, and you would never find me disagreeing. I love the attention the stage brings to me, and my fans, dressing up, and living a new life for a few hours during rehearsal or when the show is on. To act is my greatest joy in life. I’ve had roles in television, musicals, stage plays, movies, and the occasional advertisement.

I constantly look for the next role I will play if I am not all consumed by my current role. Except for this moment, my entire life has been consumed by acting to the point that I can no longer be my true self.

C r e e e e e k

I hear the house rest and mistake it for the door again. I find myself on edge constantly because I’m in the mists of a minor slip or perhaps the worst catastrophic mistake I have ever made, depending on whom you may ask. I have begun a relationship with my butler behind the back of my husband. I am aware of how awful it is of me; however, it is not even that alone, it's that…

I hear another noise, and I snap myself out of my thoughts and dart my head to my left, looking up. I realize it is my husband preparing for work in the morning.

“Oh! Hello there dear.”

“Spacing off again, are we?”

I feint a smile. “Maybe so,” acting as if I were not trying to think through my mistakes once again in my head. I do this all too often.

“What about this time?” he questioned, sifting through his things to ensure he had everything needed in his briefcase for work.

“I’m just trying to think of what to place in our garden, it feels like such a waste leaving so much land empty…” I say, trying to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Oh, I like that idea,” he says, having no clue, and putting on his jacket. “You’ve got plenty of time to do that while I’m away, why don’t you come up with a list?”

“Of course.”

I walk up to him, wrap my arms around his neck, and hug him to go, but I curse myself for making him expect something out of me for the day while I had plans with my other.

Performing in plays has helped me in situations like this. When you forget your line on the big day because of nerves or worse, you may just say or do whatever you'd like if it fits the context. If the line is delivered with the same confidence as the rest of your lines, the crowd is none the wiser. Only you and those on the inside know. It is all too much like lying, as I have gotten used to.

To make myself feel better, I try to remind myself that this is just a part of being as famous as I am. Every day is a performance; my name is too well known for me to be human like anyone else. I am held in high regard for no exact reason apart from the reality that I dare be well-known. My persona is a persona to sell a brand and be perfect to the public eye. I dare make no mistakes, as it would just be my downfall.

Before I knew it, my husband was out the door on his way to work, and I was sitting here with my butler's arms around my waist. It has become like this every time my husband is gone. With the warmth he brought to my bed and the thoughts he helped soothe in my head, my time with him always felt well spent even if I felt guilty.

Guilt is difficult to overcome, even more so when you continue to do the same thing you were to feel bad about, much like the thorns of a rose compared to the soft petals. I ask myself often why I continue if I feel so bad but there are many reasons, me and my husband have been disconnected as of late. He and I are often away with our busy work; we barely see each other on our time off unless he forces us to spend time with each other.

I hate to think of this. I cover my hands over my face and lean into his arms while I look up to stop the urge I get to cry. A love like his is hard to find and even harder to lose grip on.

With a heavy heart, I am almost certain he's done the same. He's looked at other men or maybe has done worse. I sigh loudly. I find myself deep into my thoughts and worries often. It is a tiring reality, because this has been going on for years. They had been together for 25 years.

Word count: 868

The light of the sun starts to brighten as the moon drags the darkness down alongside it. First the blue and black of the night sky turns light. Soon yellow and then orange take over the sky as time goes on pulling the sun up. Shining through the darkness as if a beacon of hope and a reminder time is moving on.

Each day a beauty passes over us and her name is the sun. Many notice her, but many more are not even there for her; despite this, she is always there regardless. Be it a time to prepare, plan, rush, or sleep, the sun gently rises alongside her friend humankind.

The warmth on your face as you watch her move is an experience that passes throughout time as a beauty to behold. Photographed for many years and many more to come despite being the same each time.

Nothing here to read so far...