I was eighteen when I played the plant in Little Shop of Horrors...The director told me that she had never seen anyone connect with an inanimate object like I did...I brought to life the hungry need of the plant...At the time...I was flattered...I saw myself as a great puppeteer...looking back...I realize that I connected with the responsibility of breathing life into something...because I have lived much of my life as puppet...not for others...but for that need to feed that hungry beast that eats me up inside...
Coming out of the gate...I am a racehorse...I am Seabiscuit...I am Secretariat...By the time I round the third turn...I am the old pony at a kid's birthday...Coming out of the gate...I am ripe with the possibilities of success... and with each pass of the track...I begin to watch the other horses...their grace...their speed...how gallant they are...or fierce...Then I notice the nicks and scratches on my legs...the knobby knees...the unusual gait I have...my coloring is different...and...inside...I feel the hungry beast that eats my confidence...It is then that I finish second...at the end...the very end...I give up some tiny part of myself...
I used to think that what I gave up was so small...that it didn't mean anything...But that isn't true...eventually it adds up...and what used to be nicks and little gouges...becomes your leg or your arm...actually...it's belief in yourself...belief that you deserve what is waiting for you...at the finish line...Although I have crossed many finish lines...rarely have I won...especially when I knew I was competing...especially in love...
My youth taught me that no who had any power loved me...and those that tried would never be allowed to survive...So...I took what was offered to me...I didn't question...and when someone walked away...I just picked up my marbles....and went home...I did that in my divorce...He decided to leave...and I packed him up and out the door...in three hours...and he was thankful for it...
Now...I find myself on the track again...I know where the finish is...and who is standing on the line...and I already feel myself weakening...because...why would he wait for me?...why would he want someone dinged and damaged?....There it is...I believe that I am damaged...inside...and of course I am...that little monster....that has become so great....has been eating away at me...since the beginning of my time...It's a wonder that there is anything left...
It is time that I fight back...that I back the beast off...It is time that I become the puppeteer...instead of the puppet...It is time that I take charge of my future...and my future love...not the person...but the feelings...It is time that I allow myself to feel hunger...and reach out...stretch toward what I want...and never take my eye off the prize...because the prize is watching me...watching to see if I have the courage...the strength to endure...it all...Because if I give up during the race...I won't value the prize...
If I'm going to do this right...I need something to keep my strength up....I need nourishment...
Feed me Seymour...
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