Why

It's a FRIDAY NIGHT. 
And I was helping out with the DRAMA CLUB.
In SCHOOL.

Stepping onto the stage again even though I wasn't acting.
Going back to the one place I get to be whoever the fuck I can be.
The one place I'm happy, I'm actually happy.

Being around people I don't know well but love because of our shared passion for acting.
Talking to a junior who's leaving and understanding his pain, because I've been there before. I was there. 
Feeling for the first time in a week as though I could temporarily forget exactly how tired I am, how empty I've been.

And so I ask you this.
No anger, no hate -
I'm fighting back tears even in the bus.

Why do you have to be such an asshole?

I'm not good at acting, but it's here that everything clicks, everything falls into place for a few hours.

I'm not pretty like the others or good with techniques or makeup like the others, but it's here that it feels somewhat more like home.

Even though I don't know the new batch very well, it's still home and I still love them.

Even though I'm not as good as others when it comes to knowing things like other musicals or watching them or talking about the actors, I know what I know, and I love what I know.

So why do you have to do this?

Tell me, if I had a choice between the stage and going back to a cold house, to your face, your yelling at me for doing something I love...

The answer would be more than obvious to me.

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