With one final bow and blown kiss out into the crowd, I turn on my heel and walk behind the stage. For the last twenty minutes or of the show, tears have been threatening to spill from my eyes, but they can’t drop yet. I keep my head held high as I walk through the chaos of the backstage. Usually, I’m known to rush out of venue before anyone even knows, but not tonight. Tonight I want to take it all in. I want to be here when they sweep up the final speck of confetti off the ground.

I’m not ready to say goodbye to this tour, but I know deep down that a rest is needed. After nearly three years on the road, it’ll be nice to just be still for once. Or, at least that’s what I’m trying to convince myself of.

Stagehands and big named executives slap me on the back as I pass by, but all I can give them is a smile or a quick handshake in return. I just want to be in my dressing room. The sound of the crowd is still buzzing in my head, and the commotion around me makes me dizzy.

My manager, Jeff, is waiting outside my dressing room door when I arrive, a weak smile on his face. He immediately draws me in for a hug. It’s tight and familiar, and I easily reciprocate it—he’s family to me.

“I already got your family inside,” he mutters, and even just the mention of them makes some of the anxiety in my chest loosen. He pats my back a few times before pulling back, holding onto my shoulders. “Great show,” he says, but I know the deeper meaning of his words. And with that, he lets me go all together, walking off to deal with whatever it is his job entails.

I stare at the door of my dressing room, rolling out my shoulders in preparation. It’s not like I’m nervous to see you all, you’re my family, but I’m nervous for the emotional roller coaster I’ll be sent on when I do. The tears are already welling back up. With one last shaky sigh, I twist open the door.

My mum’s right behind it, eagerly awaiting the chance to wrap me in her arms. She gushes into my ear, rocking us back and forth in that motherly way, and already crying herself. In that moment, I’m the strong one. She pulls back and wipes at her eyes, moving out of the way to collect herself. That’s when my sister, Gemma, steps up, jokingly punching my shoulder before coming up to redeem her hug too. Hers is shorter, more casual, and she doesn’t cry. Just says how ‘awesome my little brother is’ and musses up my hair a bit, but I see the glossiness of her eyes as she pulls away.

And when she steps back, like a scene from a movie, she reveals you. Standing in the center of the room, eyes watery and arms outstretched. That’s what breaks me.

You and I have been together for 4 years, so you’ve stuck with me through the entirety of the past 3 chaotic years of my life. Coming to shows when you can, since you have your own acting career to focus on, and supporting me every step of the way. I never felt like the distance and time differences put a damper on our relationship. If anything, it just made us stronger. I could physically feel your love from thousands of miles away.

You demanded some press interviews to be rescheduled so you could be here tonight, and I couldn’t be more grateful. I needed you here. I always need you, but tonight was different. Looking out into the crowd and seeing your face was the only thing to get me to not break down on stage. But now, it’s the face that makes me feel safe enough to break down because it’s over.

I scoop you up into my arms, crushing you against my chest. Silent tears slip down my cheeks as I bury my face in your neck, relishing in your warmth—the one that feels like home. Your hands smooth up and down my back in comforting circles, exactly what I needed. And in my ear, I catch the whispers of ‘so proud’, ‘everyone loves you’ and ‘let it out’, repeated over and over again.

I can’t believe the tour is over, but I wouldn’t have had it end any other way.