Screenplay

This morning’s alarm clock was just another reminder that life goes on, day after day, and I can only play my part.  There was no audition for this life. I didn’t ask to be cast in the role of this woman, unsteady and shaken at times. I read no lines of depression or despair, and shed no crocodile tears for the camera in hopes of landing this starring role. I never went to wardrobe and tried on this skin to make sure it fit, and I never stood beside the leading man to see if we clashed in front of the screen of life. No supporting actors were brought in for my approval and I never had the chance of meeting the director before signing the contract. Yet, here I am, the star in my own life’s story.

The lines of the page, the dialogue for this show, seem as if they have been written with a pen of disappearing ink. The moment I memorize what I’m supposed to say I’m handed a whole new script. All the words and movements that I’ve become familiar with change in a second’s time. So I practice, again, in front of the mirror of society, trying new ways to say these things. Some come slowly, others flow from my mouth with such an ease I know I got it right.

The feelings I show are unrehearsed. All the best actors take experience of life and use it to convey the emotion of the part. I’ve never been right on cue and it seems that what I feel has a life of its own. No matter what I do I cannot hide. This open book, of love and loss, has a way of coming to light. So I smile for the camera and let it flow, whatever my soul reveals. Sometimes, the fear of reaction from the crowd makes me cover my eyes with my hands, only to peak through the cracks of my fingers, afraid of the embarrassment my feelings might cause. On good days I take a deep breath and know that whatever I reveal will steal the show and I will be left feeling like the star that deep down I know I am.

 At times, the costume I wear is taken in and, at others, it must be let out. Adjustments are made to fit this form that I have taken on. Daylight brings on the uncomfortable itch, as if I’m made of wool. At night I change into the silky dress of what I am, my look is always changing.

There have been leading men in and out of this cinematic orchestra, chemistry there. They’ve played the parts the best they could and we thought we had made a masterpiece. The passion was shown, real and raw. The conflict displayed immaculately. But when the last scenes were filmed the happily ever after never showed through. So on the cutting room floor of my life, I’ve left those scenes behind. The role has changed. What were the lines of a knight in shining armor now changes to fit another man. As we adapt this picture to fit our needs we play the parts in hopes that it will all come together well. It seems that we are now melting the tapes of each of our lives together. We make a cut here, add a piece there, and anticipate the award winning tale of laughter and love, of heartache and pain, of being lost for a time and then finding our way. Maybe the end result of this epic we’re filming will end up on the big screen. Maybe my life, this part I’m performing, will end up a lonely story. But I never believe that what I am doing will turn out anything less than spectacular. So, we keep reading for now, this leading man and I, and see how well it’s played.

The people around, day to day, my supporting actors of course, stand by and watch me work. They offer advice and suggestions and pats on the back. They remind me of my ability to shine. They help me fill in the blank spaces; they bridge one scene to the next. Without them this would be a monologue. So I try to remember there is more than just me, and that these actors have parts, too. They say their lines and play their role; they are part of the show.

The director of this story doesn’t speak much. He leaves me to figure out the signs. With a nod of his head he lets me know that I’m doing the job exactly as I should. With a shake of his fist he stops me dead cold in my tracks and I know there’s something I must change. He knows what he wants to convey.  We’re becoming more in tune, this master and I, so I watch and listen and follow his lead. All is turning out well.

Maybe this will be one of the remembered love stories, leaving hope in the hearts of all that see it. Maybe the epic battles between good and evil will come through on the screen. The actors in my show star in their own lives, too, and maybe they’ll ask me to play a part for them. Maybe this leading man will be the link that ties it all together. Maybe I’ll star alone. But either way, this woman I’m portraying is the greatest part I’ve ever played. The ever changing script keeps me working to renew my skills, to adapt and be better, to relay the meaning and emotion in a way that leaves the story a masterpiece.

 

So I go on, day after day, the never-ending story coming together. I don’t know how this will end, but it will not be one to end up on the dusty shelves in the back of the store. No, mine will be a show to be remembered.