Last Night

Last night's conversation turned into a very early morning discussion.
Last night turned into a lot of crying.
Last night turned into a late afternoon, waking up, touching my husband's back, and smiling.

Last night I went on a midnight Tommy's run with the boyz (Bradley, Poter, and Zac). Tommy's, for those who don't know, is a burger place that slathers chilli on everything. :) I ordered my chilli on the side and met the scoffs of three boys. I punched Zac in the chest...for some forgotten reason. I laughed with them while they showed one another hilarious videos on Bradley's phone. Inside jokes and famous stories from the past happened over and over again. And I felt just a little uncomfortable, only because these three have a history together, and I wasn't quite in the loop the entire time. I almost felt intruding, though I know they didn't think that at all. For the most part, I rolled the sleeves of my hoodie up and down my arms, crossed my legs at the ankles, and wondered why I got along so well with my guy friends my first semester at BYU.

It hit me while I popped another fry in my mouth, tasting salt and ketchup: We all met at the same time. There was no history between any of us. Josh, Craig, Zac, and I were all starting fresh. That's why we all felt comfortable around one another!

When Zac and I got home, I was pretty bummed. I felt like a Grade-A Loser. I didn't feel "cool" enough to hang with his friends. I didn't feel "smart" enough. I didn't know music as well. I didn't have funny stories to share or interesting life experiences they'd find "interesting." The list went on and on. Of course, my pity party led me to more uncomfortable memories of high school friendships. Why certain relationships flourished while others disintegrated.
"It's just frustrating whenever I go home now. Like, everyone knows I'm married. Everyone knows how much of a Mormon I am. They don't get it and I wonder if they ever will."
...
"Even at BYU, I feel alienated in the HFAC (The Harris Fine Arts Center) because a lot of my friends made it into higher level acting classes when I didn't make the cut. They all know I wanted to get in the acting program, but then didn't. They know they got higher scores than me. They know I have to find something else to do. How can I be comfortable there?"
...
Blah, blah, blah. On and on I went. Here's what really matters:

Zac listened, held me close, sat me down on the bed, and listened some more.

I found myself staring at the wall, tears flowing, just talking. I ended up traveling down memory lane, passing by "Cough/Laugh," an experimental play I was in last fall semester. "Cough/Laugh" then became my focus and drive to get all my frustration out in our conversation. I went on forever about how life changing my performance was, both to me, and to many people who saw the play. I blathered on and on about how I put everything I had into that production, finding out that people were moved and touched, even months after the last performance. I whispered how amazing it was to have the playwright in the audience, come down to me after the show, and tell me, "Chelsea, you were sublime. Because of your performance, I'm making permanent changes to the script. You brought life to this piece. I am so grateful you were chosen to be in my play."

Neither Zac or my family could make it to the show. Zac was on his mission at the time, this being one of the main reasons why putting all I had into "Cough/Laugh" was so important, because I felt that if I did, he could somehow feel me. My mother desperately wanted to fly out to Utah to see the show, this being my first "lead" role at BYU, but it was only a one act play and there wasn't quite enough money.
About two weeks before the first performance, I got a terrible black eye in rehearsal. Many told me it was a beautiful shiner and I couldn't have agreed more. Even the school's makeup teacher took a picture of my eye so she could use it for class examples when she taught her "Gories and Grossies" makeup session. :)
During the week of the show going up, I stumbled upon a grave and very personal misfortune that happened in my life, just that previous summer. Due to the themes in the play, my director was uncertain if I should go on to perform. But I told him I needed to. It needed to be released from me. So, he let me perform, but kept a very good eye on me

[To make up for my shiner, I think :)]

The day before the show opened, I got very sick. Stress, emotional instability, depression, missing Zac and my family were all definitely factors. I drank a hug dose of Nyquil the night before, much to my roommate's delight. It was so funny! haha The next day, I didn't wake up until 12:10 pm, the first showing at 1:00 pm. Groggily, I showered, dressed and raced across campus to the show I wanted to look perfect for, but had to settle for the mess I was. Makeup was smeared over my purple/green/yellow eye, and I got into costume.
Then I put on the show of my life.
I had to listen harder, think clearer, and react faster because of the Nyquil still in my system. There were only three performances of the show, all in one day. In the end, I was emotionally, physically, and mentally drained. After each show, I felt like I had just run my best race in high school. Nothing had felt so amazing. And the best part? People cared.


To hear that I've changed lives because of my acting is a surreal event. I had never equated myself with being "that good." Right now, I am still baffled at the thought.
Around 3:30 am, Zac laid me on his chest and reassured me if I had such an affect on the "Cough/Laugh" audience, it doesn't matter I'm not in the acting program. I don't need a certificate or a diploma to show I can act. Though my friends who've moved on ahead of me in the acting classes will have a sharper edge, that won't stop me from auditioning.

Acceptance is so beautiful. Accepting new paths to walk down, new doors to open, new people to meet...I can't wait. I can't wait for my acceptance. :)