One moment, please

Nine years and hundreds of shows. I knew it was time to move on.
Two hours, two sets of original scenes, seven of us, 70 of you, and one moment backstage that tells me what it’s all about.
The crowd murmured, the lights flashed, Joe announced: “Turn your cell phones and pagers to the more fun setting of vibrate.”
The lights lowered and the music started.
Da, da, da-da, da...da, da da!
It sends a rush of adrenaline through me before any show. It sends a rush through us all. But as we all softly moshed to the sound, jumped in place, nothing flashed past my eyes. No one entered my mind, no wishes, no thoughts, no regrets ... because right then, there was nowhere else in the world I wanted to be.
Not on television, not in a movie, not on-stage in New York, not on a date with Winona Ryder.
For those two hours, that one night, I was right where I was supposed to be, doing what I was supposed to do.
I will miss it infinitely.
One moment, thank you.