Age 8

The breath seems like it’ll go anywhere but my lungs
As I sit in the corner with my paper mache hat
Molded to look like a hammer head
But felt more like a weight pulling me down

Mrs. S frantically steps through the door
looking around the solemn classroom until our gazes meet
“C’mon Dilly Bean, you’re gonna miss your cue!”
She says with a cheery and excited grin

I ease out of the chair and find my breath
Like a sudden splash of cold water on my clammy face
The jolt of energy seems to be enough
To distract me from my flipping stomach

Age 10

I sit in the tattered seat of the middle school auditorium
Watching the feet move around in the small slit
Between the curtain and the ground
Pointing them out to my friends

The velvet wall splits in two as the crowd falls into silence
And Ian Rucker, yes the Ian Rucker, the Middle School musical legend we had heard of
With his voice as smooth as silk
Yet so powerful that it could knock you to your knees

The children bow and the curtain slides shut
I sit up in my seat, hands raw from clapping
Amazed that they could get up and do what terrified me
But what if maybe I could too?

Age 11

We sit at the table in the dining room lined with frosting covered paper plates
And a string of letters reading “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” line the ceiling
I grin because I’ve got a new game from my dad
Not realizing the most important gift was yet to come

My grandmother slides an envelope across the finished walnut
With my name on it, in the fancy writing only grandma could write in
I tear open the card with haste, hoping for a extra few dollars
But instead find $150 in the form of enrollment in a theatre program

My smile immediately vanishes from my once cheerful face
The terror sets in as i realize what I’ll have to do
There's no way I’d be able to sing for so many people
But what if maybe I could?

Age 11 and a half

The curtains come together, dampening the crowd's thunderous applause
Ringing through this small gymnasium, not meant for so much noise
I wipe the salty concoction of sweat and makeup from my brow and remove my vibrant hat
That. Was. Themostfuni’veeverhadinmyenitrelife

The audience members filter out of their seats and head to their cars,
Intercepted by a barrage of 7 to 12 year olds looking for their parents
While I try to locate mine, I feel a hand on my shoulder
I turn to see Connor Sullivan, yes the Connor Sullivan, the 6’ 6” colossus of baritone wonder
Staring back at me

“You did great, Dylan. You had so much expression and confidence” He tells me
His wide, humble grin itself could’ve told me that
I thank him, and freak out like a fangirl once he leaves
He believed in me. Someone actually believed in me

After that night, I never asked myself “But what if maybe I could?”
I knew that I could. After Connor, the walls around me just, disappeared
I knew I could do anything
I sat before a limitless sky
Ready to fly away