Since I last posted, I’ve been accepted to a summer musical theatre program in NYC that I’m incredibly thrilled to be joining. It’s going to be a phenomenal experience that’s going to require my A game at all times, and I never would have gone for it if I’d been accepted to the Music Therapy program that I wanted for the fall. I want to talk about all of that in more detail… but tonight, I can’t.
This afternoon I watched most of my core group of friends at this school sing their last choral concert together, and tonight I need to give some space in this blog to those classmates who have, to unapologetically quote Wicked, changed me for the better.
For the past few years, this group of talented peers have inspired me with their unique gifts, reassured me when I needed it, challenged me when I was wrong, and pushed me to be better – and in the process, I became better. We all did. We didn’t always get along perfectly, but we always unfailingly supported each other’s growth as musicians, and we frequently came together to create something bigger than ourselves semester after semester.
We were a little family, and though we’ve lost individual members one by one to other schools or just semesters off, this is the first time it feels like we’re really, finally going our separate ways. A number of tears were shed after this afternoon’s choral concert, and I’m certain there will be more at our student recital. Even though I’m not going anywhere just yet, I can’t help but feel more than a little wistful. Certainly there will be other groups of talented people to collaborate with. Certainly we’ll all make new friends, and the people who care about each other will remain in touch. But it’ll never be this, it’ll never be this group of people that I met and grew through this particular turning point with. We’ll never share the same set of hopes, dreams, and fears again.
It’s not the first time I’ve been through this kind of goodbye, and it won’t be the last, but I needed to acknowledge it here.
To my friends (most of whom won’t read this) — thank you. You’ve given me more I can express and more than you’ll ever know.
“Words alone are vain and vacant, and my heart is mute.”
I’ll miss you.