Edema Rue

To the theatre, regarding terror:

You terrify me.

I don’t think I’ve ever told you that, have I?

I’m not just scared of you.

I’m terrified.

It’s not stagefright, not at all. I’m scared to have you, and I’m scared to leave you.

I was scared not to know you.

But the more I learn, the more frightening you become.

You terrify me.

Because all that you are—all that we are—is for them.

For the audience.

They see us.

They see us.

And what a terrifying thing it is,

To be seen.

To be seen ugly.

To be seen broken.

To be seen laughing.

To be seen crying.

To be seen shouting.

To be seen.

They don’t come to you to find something pretty, something nice, something soft.

So we can be none of those things.

We must crack our hearts like geodes, allowing the light within to shine out and caress their souls.

There is nothing more intimate than a story.

And there is no way of telling a story more intimate than with singing.

So you ask us to sing our stories 

You ask us to feel so strongly that we cannot help but sing.

And while we do it, they watch.

They see our stories and hear our voices.

That’s terrifying, you know.

To let the world hear our ugliest heartbreaks, see our deepest scars, and know our hidden sorrows.

That’s what you’re asking us to do.

To let them inside.

That’s what you’re about.

Letting people inside.

There is nothing like you in this entire world.

You terrify me.

Rue