Getting Verklempt

On Thursday, I hopped a train to NYC to go see a rehearsal of my play.

As I tiptoed up the stairs, I could hear them. The actors. The director. 

I smiled at an actor sitting outside the space, waiting for our stumble-thru to start, and sat down outside. 

I watched as they worked on a scene.  I watched as they moved through the space. I watched and felt a few tears enter my eyes.

Yes, I almost started crying.

You see, I've had readings of plays before. Staged readings. Ones where they were acting and giving as much as they could after the little rehearsal they had. 

But, um, they had memorized my words.

And I wasn't the one directing them. And it wasn't one of my best friends directing them. And I wasn't in school anymore. And...

And it was just so different, sitting there, watching these people I've only know a few months bring my play to life.

And I got a little emotional. Like this:

Then I smiled to myself because...there it was...a dream coming true....full of the sappy goodness I was hoping for. 

It sometimes hits me that this may not happen again. Nothing is guaranteed.

I'm soaking it all in.