nostalgia

one step inside,
and the smell of chipped paint
and mouldy, dusty theatre corners
fills my nostrils
while my heart starts to flood
with the memories of an entire childhood
where i lost myself in the characters i played
and i found what soul really belonged inside my body.

walking up the creaking stairway
to the dressing room,
with the hot bright lights around the mirrors
and the rooms with rows of hanging costumes.
i had no idea how much joy and pain it would twist together in my heart
to be there again.

stepping inside,
where the rows of dark red chairs
which seemed to stretch on forever all those years ago
and now there aren't so very many at all,
i remembered the worried, sick feeling i would get
right before it was my turn to sing in front of all those people.
and the intense relief that happened when
i got in front of them and remembered the lights were too bright to see anyone at all.
i remembered the dress rehearsals where nothing seemed to come together
and i would cry myself to sleep because i was nervous and stressed
and then the magic would happen the very next night
and our laughter was enough to make up for any amount of tears.
the friends i made
and have never seen again.
and the friends i made
who i am acting with today.
the directors who have become such a part of me,
i watch their handprints on my life.
the fellow actors and their parents
and everyone who has made me who i am today.

i walked inside
and i knew i was home.
my heart has moved on to different places,
but i think perhaps a part even larger than what i can realize
is attached here.

it's good to be back.