Posted on November 19, 2009 - by Rasham

IN LOVE, ACTUALLY

Red Magnetic Moon

“I just can’t do this”, she wants to say, but a thoughtful silhouette keeps her from confessing her most prominent insecurities. Instead she synthesizes a thousand reasons for being cold; one plain-clothes response for why she is suddenly so distant. He reaches for her and she denies his motivations though they haven’t changed since they last danced in the presence of stage lights and strangers. Awkward amongst the cheerful banter of her peers she strays far into her own mind, dressed in a smile although dangerously close to tears. “Excuse me”, she says, and drifts into the solace of a single stall bathroom, checking her expression in the mirror and practicing poise. In a place this close to love she is cosmically uncertain of her own contributions and wishes it all to vanish like rain under the spell of an exhausted sun. No such luck: he waits for her on the other side of the door. In a place this close to love there are but a few options for the wounded, even fewer for the bearer of an honest heart: she smooths the gaps in her mind and finds him, and so he says, “Does she have any idea how beautiful she is? How her eyes light up when she talks about things for which she is passionate? If only she knew what she does to me when she smiles…”

She dissolves, he responds, they interact with the nature of this place that is so close to love: perhaps it is love actually; perhaps it is simply something defined by a beauty greater than the misery which shades the reclusive habits of her lonely soul.