You walked through life as though the spotlight eternally shined on you.
You were glorious.
You were fabulous.
You were the latest “it” thing.
Other were burned by the glare of your own solipsism.
But they were extras. Nobodies.
Bit players and hacks.
People whose lot in life was to fill the roles you had assigned them in the real-time drama that was your life.
There could only be one star in your sky.
And the show, as they as say—
The show must go on.
They should have been grateful to stand beside you.
To stand in your light.
If only they would see it your way.
But now third act has come to a close and the supporting cast is gone from the stage.
The spotlight is yours and yours alone.
Nobody’s stayed to weep at your side, to be with you in your last final scene.
Why would they?
Who wants second billing to a fade star?
Now the house lights dim.
The curtains close.
All the world fades to black.
And in darkness you listen and wait—
There are no cheers.
No roaring applause.
No cries of encore! encore!
Now spotlight is on you, one last time.
The curtains open, one last time.
It’s time to take a bow.
To bask in the silence of empty seats.
The reviews are in.
Your show’s been canceled.
There will be no second run.
You are forgotten.