"Throw Up Your Arms Into the Sky"

Fair warning, I'm feeling a bit lonely-needy tonight, so I really don't know where my feelings are going to take me.

I've had this thought buzzing around my head for awhile now, one that comes up every time I have to give any sort of performance; tonight it reared its ugly, jealous head again, and I can't decide whether I'm more frustrated or depressed about it. I feel like it's perfectly normal to want people to support you when you're doing something you really care about and enjoy, whether it's having your friends read every article you write in a school paper or attend all of your public performances--even the bad ones.

At my performance tonight, I kept catching myself looking out into the dark auditorium and wondering if any of my friends were there. I saw one after we had finished and I was headed downstairs, but I knew she wasn't there because I was performing: her roommate was performing too, and that is why she came. I catch myself doing that each and every time I perform or do something that's really meaningful to me, and by the end of the night I always feel really empty and depressed.

After a show, I see my friends getting these gorgeous bouquets of flowers from their significant others, or their families, or their roommates.... I have never in my life received flowers after a performance. Wait, that's a lie: my dad left some on my bed for me after a show he didn't actually go to, and after my last show I came away with one yellow rose. Granted, everyone in the cast got one for doing a good job (which signify friendship, not "job well done" which is a red rose), but I still dried it and pinned it to the cork board above my bed. Why? Because...because for a few, fleeting moments, when I first took in the fragrance and beauty of that rose, I felt like someone cared enough to watch me perform.

It makes me worry a little when I think of all of the things I go through after performances and then remember that I'm going to be giving major recitals next year (both 2013 semesters, actually). Maybe I'm worrying too much about things that are a ways in the future, but I have this nagging feeling that no one will show up because it's my recital...they'll show up because they have to for a class or something. Or because they're my family and I told them to fly in and see me.

I think everyone likes feeling wanted and appreciated, especially at times when you're doing something you love and enjoy sharing with others. I know I have appreciated the times I see my friends in the audience, or they find me after everything's finished, but even then...we talk for maybe a minute and then they leave. Feeling over. And I stand there by myself, awkward and alone, watching everyone else get hugged and praised and loved.

Forget frustration, it's just depressing. It is extremely debilitating to see the rest of the world going on with their lives because they have better things to do than let you know they care.

"Nobody loves you, everyone left you, they're all out without you, having fun."                                                     ~Green Day, "21 Guns"

I'll end it here for tonight, while there's still a chance for me to rally my spirits for St. Patrick's day tomorrow and lunch with a friend. We'll broach the topic of my jealousy another day.