I just bought two house seats at full price for Friday the 28th. I'm going with my first boyfriend. We saw the original production together on our last date, in September 1971. I was 15, an aspiring actor; he was 17, a beautiful ballet dancer. We had been inseparable all summer long...that is, until the last production, when the choreographer decided it would be great fun to come between us. Which he did.
Brokenhearted, I arranged that when we were back in the city, we would meet and he would finally see my beloved. Follies. I had gone and on about it. It would be my final gift to him.
We didn't see each other again for 37 years. We each thought the other was dead, but we found out we were not. I called him up and said, Wanna go see Follies? We haven't seen it together in over 40 years."
When we found each other again, we were each thinking, "No! Don't look at me." He's very aware that he no longer has a "dancer's body." I'm very aware that I'm probably the only person in the world who still sees him the way he was. He still sees me as a cute, smart, talented boy. (I'll take that!) The "Bens we'll never be..." We remember each other as those Bens. We even think we loved them once.
But it feels like just yesterday when we saw the show 40 years ago. Just yesterday when I told him how much I loved the show--and how much more I loved him. And just yesterday when he broke my heart.
As Phyllis would say, "Oh, Buddy, that was a million years ago!"
We'll be double-dating that night, my first bf and I...along with the ghosts of our old 15- and 17-year-old selves.
Updated On: 10/3/11 at 10:28 PM