It's hard to describe the mix of emotions I'm feeling right now.

Most prominent, is disbelief. No, disbelief isn't the right word. More like a refusal to believe. The Great Comet might have to close. I can barely type out those words. They hurt too much. So therefore I tell myself that they're wrong. That the Great Comet will thrive. But will it? It must.

I never really explained how much the Great Comet means to me. I wish I wrote more about the hours I in which I examined the characters and dissected the lyrics. I never even mentioned the day where I only listened to Pierre and Andrey on repeat for nearly 4 hours. Or how it was my first ever Broadway show. The pure bliss that I felt during every second of the show, never tainted by boredom and always strengthened by longing. A longing to be up there on stage as Natasha or Sonya or even Mary. I still occasionally flip through the Playbill.

Now thinking of the people who could've been like me or had this experience know denied it is simply inconceivable. Impossible. I simply refuse the notion. It's complete ludicrous.