Take a bow

Loyalty in a Room full of Actors

There’s an old Madonna song I heard about a month ago that I can’t stop thinking about. Most of her music never really hit me in the soul, but this one did. Not even when it first came out — I probably liked it, but I didn’t really listen. I didn’t understand it.

It’s “Take a Bow.” It references Shakespeare: All the world’s a stage.

Something about that won’t leave me. The performance of people. The masquerade. Lines delivered on cue. Applause where there shouldn’t be any.

The love wasn’t mutual. The loyalty wasn’t matched.

How many people in my life were performing? More than I’d care to admit.

Part of me thinks I’m a fool for believing people. Part of me is just disgusted that anyone could be that cruel. Not just to me — to anyone. If someone did this to Patrick, or Kara, or my dad, even Wanda, I’d lose it. I’d go to war.

But when it’s me, I stand there like I’m watching it happen to someone else. Like I can’t quite believe it’s real.

“How was I to know which way the story goes?”

Apparently I should have known. Before they fucked me over royally.

I was there eight years before my boss even started. I knew the company. I knew the culture. I knew the landmines. When he came in, I helped him get acclimated. I watched his six.

And the other one — the one whose husband died — I knew her from the beginning. She supported me. She recommended me for the role to help him. I was there for her when her husband was dying. I was there after he died.

I gave everything. I’ll keep your secrets. I’ll save your ass. I’ll protect you when you’re not in the room.

And what do I get?

Judas friends. Volunteering me for the cross for the cost of a job.

And I asked. Repeatedly.

This wasn’t one person. It was four deep.

Was the whole seven years a performance? Pretending you liked me. Pretending I did a good job. And the other fifteen — was that just convenience? You aligned with me until it no longer served you.

And the one I trained — I taught her everything she knows about that job. She struggled. Needed constant help. I stuck with her anyway. Then she takes my job. No apology. No regret. Not even a goodbye.

The show is over. Say goodbye.

All the world is a stage. Everyone has their part.

How was I supposed to know where the story was going?