My Dear Diane

My Dear Diane,

There was a young, tender time under sweet summer skies where we would dance barefoot in the grass and engage in ancient dialogue. We'd gather around, all in a room and tighten our belts, we'd slow down and rest without guilt. We would act and lie without fear in a world of Shakespeare. We would stay and respond, expand, include, allow and forgive, and live in a safe world of make believe. We'd evolve, enjoy, inquire, discern, accept, admit, divulge, speak out and reach out. It was our utopia, our imaginary ideal, our nirvana, our ultimate. We'd open our arms and jump, propelled by our passions, amused and charmed by our differences. We'd be gentle and make space for every emotion. We would breathe and be charmed and amused by language. We would heal and be humbled, hold close and let go and know when to do which. And we all only knew of these things because of you.

You'll never know how you changed my world, one Shakespearian Summer at a time.

You taught me what love was when I needed love the most, and I'll always love you for that.

Your Francis Flute, Thisbee, Claudio and Sir Andrew Aguecheek,

Ryan