You are the main character in your life. It is because of this that I find the phenomenon of “celebrity” so odd. People who obsess over movie stars or musicians are giving a complete stranger precedence in their lives. Why are these people so important? They get paid to entertain us, nothing more. World leaders should be so lucky as to have half the press that Madonna demands.
Even though you are the main character in your life, as FDR said, you are just an extra in everyone else’s. Your problems/ joys/ accomplishments are just news or gossip to someone else. Your life is your own and all else is on the periphery, unless you choose to bring it in focus. Lives become interconnected with yours like a Venn Diagram. I have my work circles, friend circles, family circles and some over lap, but others never touch.
I think it is important that people remember that even though we all have roles in life like Sister, Wife, Daughter, we are also just Girl #4 or Bitch Who Stole My Parking Space to someone else. It’s good to feel insignificant every now and then. It brings life into perspective. And, there are many lives in which I am grateful that I only play a bit part. I am not qualified to act in some dramas.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Stephen thanked whatever god would listen that it was the end of July and Mark was the only witness to the puddle of blood Daphne left behind at the bar. Mark now sat on the coffee table, elbows on knees, watching the impossibly slow rise and fall of Daphne’s chest. Stephen just finished telling Mark everything he could remember after being led upstairs by the now unconscious woman. He accepted the rather fantastical story much better than Stephen had anticipated. In fact, he accepted it almost too well.
“This is awesome!” Mark said as he swung his legs over to the opposite side of the coffee table and spun around to face Stephen who sat in the chair.
Stephen raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“Man, don’t you see? This shit is exciting!” Stephen returned his enthusiasm with only a blank stare. “You’ve got yourself a real life adventure, here. This kind of thing only happens in the movies, but it’s happening to you!”
Stephen leaned forward and stared at his friend. “Are you high?”
“Aw, you know I don’t do that anymore. But, can’t you see the potential for how cool this could be?”
“Uh, no, I don’t. It’s cool in the movies because it is scripted to end well for the main character. There is no guarantee that this will end well for me. Hell, I don’t even know if I’m the main character here. I could just be some disposable bit part!”
Mark laughed. “You can’t be a bit part! It’s your life!”
Stephen allowed his mind a moment to ponder the duality inferred by that statement. Everyone is the main character in their own life, but at the same time they play supporting roles, or minor ones, or none at all, in other’s lives. Although he definitely didn’t want to be the doomed “red-shirted ensign” of Star Trek fame in this situation, he did not know if he wanted to be the hero, either. What Mark saw as cool, he saw as frighteningly life-altering. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.
