And there he stands in between the performances. The one that played East. That one boy you used to be so in love with... but you no longer are. It almost hurts to see him there and have all those memories. It does hurt, but you can ignore it.
The sad thing, however? At auditions, you almost got a part. Almost. The very word that is the basis of the whole play, and it applies so perfectly to your situation. You almost got placed in a scene with him. Almost. You felt the energy between the two of you, and it suddenly made you understand why, exactly, people act.
There was such a raw, emotional connection. For a split second, there was no you and him. There was just one being, one ball of energy, auditioning for a play underneath the hot stage lights that made you sweat and your eyes water. You could feel it, and by looking in his eyes, you knew he did too. And when his lips touched your cheek, about an inch away from your left ear, it felt like getting zapped with electricity. You aren't one for sentimentality or sappiness - really, you aren't! - but that was a moment where things felt right.
You were Rhonda and he was Dave, and the energy between you was electric. All of the things in the past you shared? You let it out right there on stage. That was when you finally let go of it. All of it. After he kissed you, you yelled at him with everything you had in you - all of the hate, anger, regret, love, and pain - and hoped you could get the part. You only did children's theatre, so you needed this. You needed the chance to be mature and let yourself go! You had to feel all of that as strongly as you possibly could.
And you did. You left everything you had on that stage, with your teacher whispering to her auditioning assistant and the eyes of your peers still glued on you.
He was cast as East, and you automatically became jealous of the girl cast as Glory. You wanted to connect with him. You were longing for some sense of closure, some way to tie up and throw away all of the love you felt for him.
You weren't cast - at all. You volunteered for concessions during one showing, but went home because you felt sick.
Why did you still care?
You saw him, and you loved him. It was simple. But you weren't good enough. You made him hate you, albeit accidentally. You were the villain for making things be this way. Perhaps he couldn't feel things like love. Maybe somebody broke his heart and it turned to slate. He could've been on his way to go tell somebody yes, or to get back the love that he had given away.
With him, the most you could hope for was that he wanted to be close by going the long way around. You knew this wasn't true, but maybe, just maybe, it was.
You went to see the very first showing, and you went to see the very last.
After the very last one, you tried to get close to him. You wanted to kiss him and see if that brought some sense of closure. You waited for him.
Eventually you saw him leave through the back door. You followed him, hoping that you could get that kiss. By the time you had gotten out there, it was almost too late. He was unlocking his car door.
You paused under the glow of the streetlight, wondering what to say. You eventually just ran to him, but he had already slammed his car door behind him.
You were alone in the parking lot under the stars and street lamp. He was gone. You were here.
You were so close to it. You could've gotten that last bit of closure if you were just a bit faster.
You almost had it.