a Love Letter.
Stories about plays and Ann Arbor. (#Day43)
June 28th, 2012. 8:25 AM;
Do you know the feeling?
It only happens rarely.
That feeling that happens when you are watching a play, one which draws you in. A play that is so encapsulating that, during it, everything else around you ceases. Time becomes irrelevant.
In such a play, the actors talk to one another effortlessly. Their emotions are clear and vivid. While watching, you begin to feel a connection to the plot. The connection can be so natural and true that you are gripped.
Afterwards, you forget it was even a play. It felt so real, that nothing could ever take away that moment, where you felt at peace.
However, you are told by a friend that it was merely a play. And that you should focus on eating the dinner, not the menu.
That night, as you fall asleep, the play is still on your mind. Yet, it does not make you anxious. It has, in a way, set you free; it allowed you to breathe out after having held your breath for too long.
The next morning, you wake up, and you feel light. Things around you, which normally cause you to casually worry, are merely there. You are content and happy. You see the world a bit differently. You wish that the feeling could last forever; that you could feel this way, everyday.
You almost want to talk to the play. To tell it how it made you feel. But its nearly impossible to put into words. Weightless, easy, calm, all suffice; but none do the job.
So, you start to right a script of your own.
Some, when writing a script about a play, would trouble themselves by worrying what the play would think of the script. While writing, however, you realize that, somehow, your message will get across. That, in the end, things will work themselves out. And, as a result, you have nothing to worry about.
As you finish the script, you are reminded again about how much you loved the play. You tell a friend, and he is quick to point out that plays are not real. Your friends cannot relate to what you feel. You sigh, and throw out the script, and move on with your life.
But here’s the punchline:
This. Is. Real.
Love,
— Ryan
[[Sidenote and disclaimer: the person this is written for/about is blatantly mentioned in my post from #Day8 about Ann Arbor. The only person I showed this to was my best friend.
Hoping that anyone who has been in a similar experience before can relate and reflect anew.]]
#Day43 , #100DaysOfBlogging
