Midnight Diaries Entry 2
In but a daze we went, my mind and I; for but a second, we two stumbled into the evening air. There was a strange feeling, being there—existing then in that fraction of a time—to be so lost in a school so familiar, so uncomfortable in a morning home I’d made out of it.
Lights—but only at the end of the tunnel.
The smell of cheap pizza filtered the dust in the air; man in blue guarded the entrance; people whispering in the darkness; myself and my mind, I, through the doors; give the ticket; here, there; whizzing; twirling—
I saw her first.
Slowly my mind followed into realization, but there was just something more mystical about the obscurity of the situation. For a moment, I knew not whom I stared at but a beauty clothed in sable. Curtains in the hindview, people jostled at my side, friends waving—no. None of it matter, for there she stood, unparalleled elegance contrasting so sharply with her chaotic backdrop. She was already an actor on a stage, there and then: in the midnight spotlight she shined rays of majesty.
My evening belle, my mind said.
Quiet, I said.
We both braced ourselves, for for the oddest of reasons, some false confidence had already started my walking towards her.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Ah. Friends. Old, old friends.
We met not too long after my enthrallment. We chatted quietly, but there she stood in vision, always interrupting the pleasantness of the conversation. I could not venture more than the simple introductions and farewells, and thus, I didn’t.
Lights dimmed; the show host appeared.
“We’d like to thank… our town… without the help of… night’s play”, he said in his croaky voice. No, no, hush. Let me see her again… please. Fast forward the play to her debut. Nothing else about this play was worth the—oh.
It’s starting. Curtains I would have admired had it not been for my preoccupation parted and onto the stage stepped a boy. Prim… proper… but not her. I waved past events and desperately tried to retain her beauty in my mind. The two of us, you see, were always forgetful.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I heard about a marriage.
I’d give neither feeling nor thought had it been anyone else’s, but this marriage worried me.
It was a fictional marriage for the fictional play, of course, but somehow I reasoned a doom within the scripts of the night yet unfolded.
There she was again ~ parading down the stage, masterfully embodying loveliness itself, reciting honeyed lines and feigning lustrous acts.
Ooh, how I could not enjoy myself!
The thought was too much. Act after act until she reappeared in the most radiant white wedding dress I’d seen. My heart ached. Splatters of blood stained my chest and pattered onto my lap. Noo… please… She walked forward on the stage. Wedding scene; minister—no…—; standing audience; lights at the end of the tunnel; the words rolling out—noo…!—; stand; lean; gasp; shout!—
In front us two kissed the bride and groom. Drained of blood, my heart cracked and smashed to the floor. Aghast I sat there, so alone now in this chaotic theater world. The play had ruined me, and that rush of selfish jealousy…
had seemed more real than the night’s event itself.
< < < < < < > > > > > >