Need I Say

There is something strangely comforting and eerily disconcerting about the escapism associated with a foray to the cinema. The curtains lower, and the lights grow dim, the crunching of popcorn is trumped only by the whispers of excited patrons. Eyes are lit up brighter than the screen and for a brief moment, the audience, the captive moviegoers, the participants, all along for the same ride, sit in unabated eagerness for the moving picture story that is to unfold. I am one of those parishioners of fantasy, the guy who twitches and laughs, and holds his breath and waits and cries and hopes that the developing idea on screen will be one I'm brave enough to hold onto someday. I was unexpectedly caught in a surreal moment this evening, as I watched the lights dancing and heard cell phones being turned off. The movie started rolling; annoyed, frustrated, bored, utterly apathetic were the majority of feelings that had engulfed me, empathy and a wish to dream again - freed me. I wanted, briefly, to have a fascinating story I could tell others. I wanted to be able to say that I knew this girl and it was this but it ended up like that, who knew that we felt that way about each other? But, the lump in my throat thickened and my breathing became short. My brow began to bead, darts of sweat raced to be the first to sting my eyes. Hands that gracefully composed sonnets in calligraphy and played chords that left my fingers twisted like speaker wire were full of sweat and unable to stop sprinting on my knees. I've not felt that feeling before so I don't know what to call it, but I liked having that feeling - it seems one I'd like to call again. I can imagine sitting in front of her unable to speak because her eyes are reading my secrets - that one written loudly on my face, the one I can't recognize, but everyone else that's had, you know, that look, knows it, is familiar with it and are enormously entertained by the enormity of what is about to occur, dare I say it? No, no, I'm going to keep playing it cool. I'm going to continue to act like there isn't a gargantuan ray of sunshine on these cloudy days. I'm going to incessantly ponder the what if's because the what could be's are scary, yet utterly exciting, but unnecessarily nerve racking, but grossly exhilarating and despicably fulfilling. Yeah...you know what that feeling is...you didn't even have to sit through 7 movie previews, the "Twenty" or tuck your legs in as people pass to know it because you live with it everyday. Psssttt...I will too! Really! I will.