Day three.

Today has been rough on me. I keep fighting the urge to pick up the phone. I pick it up, dial his number, look at it for a minute, and then turn the cell off. I keep telling myself that it will be alright. I'm strong, I can make it. I'm trying my best not to be a nervous wreck. Today is not the day for that. He emailed this morning to ask me to gather his clothes together. It feels too real, it feels too final. I'm terrified. I'm scared that I'll see him Saturday night and it's the last time I'll ever see him. I'm not ready yet to know that I can't wear his shirts for comfort, or that I'll have no one to curl up to at night when his shoulder was such a comfortable niche. I feel like half of me is dying. I want to tell myself it's not real, this isn't permanent, it'll be okay. But I don't know any of that. This can't be solved with a kiss or with a few flimsy promises. Fixing us would be a serious undertaking, and I don't know if there's enough willingness to do that.

Tonight is opening night. The costume change is still a mess-- the designer is going to sew a zipper into my evening gown because last night's change was a disaster. The dressers and I could not get the newly-refitted dress on in time and I missed one of my cues. Hopefully a zipper will fix things. The sound mix is still iffy-- the body mics have to be equalized, but even so we're having a hard time hearing each other on stage. On the plus side, the costumes look fantastic-- I'm going to take pictures, but I won't post them until Sunday so that no one who's coming will be spoiled.

And as a last note, I turned my claddagh ring around last night. It took me a full day of debate. When I woke up this morning, the heart was pointing back inward. How appropriate. I don't play with my ring, and it is rather tight, so I don't know how that could have happened. For the time being, I'm keeping the heart inward. I guess we'll take it from there.