Dear Theatre,

It’s been awhile since we’ve talked…or hung out…or really even thought about each other. Sometimes I feel like I’ve got a hole in my heart where you used to be…but lately, I’ve realized I view you like I do some of my ex-boyfriends.

Fun at the time, but not nearly as meaningful as it should have been.

I mean, I know some people who live and breathe you. Some of them have a genuine fire about them when it comes to you, and it’s something I admire but simply don’t understand. I think, 5 years ago, I could have understood it…but now, sometimes I can’t believe that you were one of my majors in college.

What happened to me? I’m not sure. I think that college Theatre quietly melted away the love affair I had with you in High School.

You remember High School, right? You were a pure, shining rope that was lowered into the murky social waters of of EHS. Once I was no longer drowning, you were the lasso that allowed me to snatch up emotional balance, creative satisfaction, and a new, fulfilling social scene.
Once I graduated, rather than let you pull me up, I buckled down, tied a few knots, and climbed my way to a comfortable place in college theatre, where I learned, performed, and took bows.
And then I graduated again. And I found myself holding a piece of twine that I thought would be longer. I didn’t know what to do with you. I knew that there were a million things I could do with a rope…I just wasn’t sure I wanted to make anything out of you anymore.

Sure, I got married…had a baby. Is that a good enough reason to forget why you love something? I don’t think so. I don’t think that’s it.

Here’s the difference between you and an ex-boyfriend: I have put you out of my life and I can’t figure out the reason why.

I think to myself, “Someday, when Charlie’s older, I’ll do some Community Theatre…that would be fun.” The thing is, though…lately, when I think about you, it’s almost always with a small amount of disdain…and that’s just not right.

I’ve been trying to figure out a way to bring some closure to this letter…but I don’t think I’ve got an answer right now.

You are important to me. I loved you, once. It’s obvious that we need to come to some sort of reconciliation… I just can’t seem to envision how you’re supposed to mesh with my current life. I’m hoping that this is simply that part in a romantic comedy where the protagonists encounter a misunderstanding…and we just need a twist of fate, or a quirky best-friend, or a random object like your Grandma’s teakettle to bring us back to the same level.

I’m not going to drown myself in a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and a bottle of red, though. I’m hoping that one of these days you’ll show up with the ice cream and wine so we can share it together.
Until then, I hope you’re out there being meaningful for someone.