And then Bill writes about the men and women as players with their exits and entrances. I find it curious he doesn’t write entrances and exits; maybe I’m missing something.

Today has been difficult (a lot of crying) and after one of the spells the Shakespeare quote popped into my head (who knows why). And I saw myself on a stage sans furniture, sans lamps, sans wall paintings, sans Bette.

I do not have Bette to say my lines to.

After awhile my eyes adapt to the darkness and I realize the only adjustment is being able to see the edge of the stage. I surmise it best I don’t fall off the stage but have an inkling that at some point in the play the worst may be the best.

The Director has not shown up and I’m not sure what to do with pages and pages of dialogue. I sit on the stage floor and give them a cursory look knowing a more focused and attentive reading will drive me closer to the edge and I am not sure that’s in a pending script.

It has been days and weeks now with no show of the Director. I do hear what sounds like stage direction given in whispers but not loud enough to discern.
I’m not keen on anyone making an entrance. The loneliness I feel is due to the absence of Bette. I would question the value of anyone on the stage at this point but I am beginning to derive a little comfort from the sound of backstage whispers.

The pages for the previous act are not to be found so reliance on memory fills some of the abundance of time left me. I say abundance because grief seems to stretch the boundaries if time can be said to have boundaries.

I never thought there’d come a day I could survive a life without light but here I am. Each day is tentative and full of trembling hesitation. One morning I did wake to find some items strewn about the stage. They are difficult to make out.

Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me and I swear I hear and see Bette make an entrance. I check the stage floor to see if any pages fell from the catwalk and find none. My pockets are empty thinking the Director slipped some pages in while I was asleep. I stand quietly hoping to hear and see but nothing. Benign silence seems to be the prevalent theme of this current production.

I will admit to the darkness sometimes getting the better of me but I believe in time the backstage whispers will become intelligible and the stage truly visible.

Love to you all