My heart races and my stomach curls, just the mention of your name and the corners of my lips slowly fold into a soft smile that only you can control. My eyes start to flicker and they shine as if the moon’s light radiates from the edge of the dark brown ring surrounding my pupil. One look and I feel my temperature instantly climb and the nervousness in my voice is uncontrollable. Why do you have such power over me? Why is it that the inflections in your voice are imbedded into my brain and your eyes pierce me right to the heart? Why is it that everytime you bat your eyelishes it sends a shiver down my spine? Why can’t I get you out of my head? Why is everything I do to grab your attention and why can’t I just let you go? Why is it that no matter what I do, I am and forever will be your second choice when you’ve always been my first? Why am I nothing but a name to you when you mean more than the world to me? What makes me want you so desperately and why can’t I seem to shake the memories of a forgotten time and move on with my life? Why am I so in love with you and why can’t I get away?
All The World’s a Stage
From where I stand, everything in front of me is hidden behind a darkened shadow. Minute speckles of light dance across the faces of fathers, grandmothers, and siblings as they listen intently to every note that is being sung. To my right and left stand talented musicians dressed in black and white looking their best. All eyes on our conductor, her arms move fluidly up and down and from side to side directing us through the intricacy of the piece. Eyes closed, lost in the beauty of a sixteen part harmony, the lyrics of Eric Whitacre’s, “Water Night,” resonate through the empty spaces of the auditorium. Dark blue curtains canvas the sides of the stage and the world outside of the Logan has automatically drifted away. The overwhelming heat takes me to a summer day where the sun is beating down on my tan skin, but in this moment, the theater lights are shining on my Snow White complexion. Clammy and wet, my wrinkled hands rest of the fatty parts of my thighs as they graze across the silkiness of my floor length dress. My forehead is decorated with lines of dampness as droplets of perspiration slide down the angles of my face. The taste of salt graces the corners of my lips and I’m reminded of the ocean as I inhale deeply to take my next breath. The musty, old smell of the house can be attributed to the props and costumes hidden above and beneath the stage, and a hint of burning metallic filament is added to the mix from the glow of the lighting. As the accompanist plays a D flat major chord, our unique but unified voices decrescendo into a simple and peaceful silence. Applause erupts throughout the auditorium and a satisfactory smile creeps onto the faces of those of us on stage. As the curtain closes, a sigh of relief is heard as another breathtaking and heartwarming performance comes to a close.
