The raging tide we held inside would hold no more

A visit to my blog by my dear JD has got me thinking about Lancelot and Guinevere.

It's a pretty dark story. Pretty grown up too. We were, what - sixteen or so - and my Lancelot and I sat on a bench onstage at Greece Olympia highschool singing about the raging tide of our love that would hold no more (wow. that sounds so much more riddled with sexual overtones than I ever realized back then). The love was forbidden, a betrayal both of Lancelot's great friendship with Arthur, and of Guinevere's deep love for her husband.

This is an extra-marital affair we are talking about.

We never really got into that aspect of it.

The fortunate thing in our production, I think, was that everyone sighed a small breath of relief when Gwen took up with Lance. That meant that I was to kiss my dear friend JD (who was, much to my chagrin, making out in the hallways with my best friend on all of our rehearsal breaks) rather than kissing my brother, who was playing Arthur.

Yeah. That would have been weird.

Sometimes, when I look back at my highschool years, where I always felt a bit of an outcast and never quite knew where I fit in or what to do to earn the acceptance of my peers (which, being sixteen, mattered to me) I have to wonder if pretending I was married to my (twin) brother for two years straight on stage didn't in some way encourage our classmates to ostracize us a bit. At the time, and I mean it when I say this, the fact that we were always playing opposite each other didn't strike me as unusual. But it was. It was totally weird.

Why didn't anyone tell me that?