One Night Out

One Night Out

(This article has been read 36 times)

Posted by JPRAST on May 05, 2003 (Monday)

He lived his life like he was watching a movie. Empathising with it's character's emotions in place of his own, but never having their tactile experiences.

Have you ever watched a movie, and realized how alone you really are? Even if you went to the theatre with friends, ultimately you are left alone for the two odd hours you are watching the flic. Darkness surrounds you, and all you have is a tunnel vision into somone else's story. You are allowed to watch, and feel the emotion of the characters, but you never taste their wine, smell their oceans, or touch their cars. Your are a ghost in a life that never wanted you.

Imagine if your entire life, or maybe a big portion of it was like that. That couldn't happen? Impossible? What if the person who invented the movie, just wanted everyone else to feel like him, a person on the outside looking in. Numb to his false surroundings.

Our character, who's name is not as important as his story, shut himself off so completely after a heartbreak, that he simply became a patron to a lifetime matinee. He lived his life like he was watching a movie. Empathising with it's character's emotions in place of his own, but never allowing himself their tactile experiences. His food was bland, and had no scent. Pain was as bearable as things meant to be pleasurable, and love was something he remembered and saw all around him, but never felt.

Still, in every movie the credits must roll, and the lights must come up. People leave the theatre to rejoin life, and squint in it's daylight or swelter in it's heat. The senses are jarred to recognition of things forgotten in the last 120 minutes.

That is kind of what happened to our man. He was forced to stop being a patron, and return to his role in life. The credits ended one night out.

The bar seemed eerily real that night. Grey and silver swirling clouds of cigarette smoke burned his eyes, and dried his throat. People pushed not only past him but into him, and he heard their slurred apologies. The Budweiser that was freezing his hand felt brilliant as it poured over his tongue, and left his throat feeling renewed. Melted ice on the bottle dripped down his shirt, and instead of a shudder he simply closed his eyes in appreciation.

He sat and made short conversation with many people. Straining to hear their voices over the music playing in the background. Everything seemed so alive he felt alien in this new world. He felt even more alone than in his movie.

He began to sink back into his theatre chair, when an old friend tapped him on the shoulder. He had never been too terribly close to the man, and he didn't know his new wife, but the woman with them made his heart race. He hadn't seen a woman so beautiful for many years. Her honey blonde hair softly framed her angelic face, but it was her eyes that were as dark as night waters made his pulse race.

The foursome's table was just small enough, that the woman's foot occasionally brushed his leg. With every touch, he felt every nerve ending in his body light with energy. He would glance her way from time to time, and his heart would sink when he realized she was avoiding his gaze. He wanted so badly to look into those eyes. Their was pain in them, old and familiar. He was sure if she looked into his eyes she would see the same pain. See, how year after year, the callouses on his soul covered the breaking of his heart.

The music thumped loudly behind them, and it was only a matter of time and alcohol before the four were dancing under strobing lights. A couple and two stangers moving to music that numbed their eardrums.

He had never felt particularly good at dancing, but somehow that night it didn't matter. He moved without thought or reason. The music coursed through his limbs, and for the first time in more than he could remember, he let go. The flashing lights and many beers mad him feel dizzy, and weightless. People crowded the dance floor and he was forced closer to her. He shadowed her movements, and kept a thin space between them. As he moved in time with her, he closed his eyes and imagined holding her. He could practically feel the heat pour off her body, and feel her hair against his cheek. The smell of her perfume was intoxicating, and as he danced blindly he could feel himself floating away from earth on her scent. He was certain he was about to touch the sky when her hand brought him back to earth.

The electricity pouring off her fingers was incredible. His heart raced as her hand slid over his and pulled him closer to her. He danced with her back to his chest, and he was positive she could feel his heart beating wildly. The palm of his hand rested flat on her stomach, and her head leaned into his shoulder. He felt her hand slide down his leg and pull him closer to her. They moved as one, and she melted into his embrace. The feel of her overwhelmed him. Her soft skin, the warmth of her body, it was more than his mind could understand. He wanted to breathe her into his lungs, and taste her on his lips. If he could have one thing it would have been to dance with her forever.

The tempo of the music slowed, and she turned to face him. She found her way into his arms as if she had always been there. They swayed gently to the ballad, and he felt her hand gently stoke his back. He looked down into her eyes, but she would not look up. The song faded out, and he felt her lips brush against his neck. She held him for a moment, and then she was gone.

For just one night, his world of numbness left him. He remembered what it was like to be touched, and what it was like to hope to love again. His movie had ended, and he was walking into the daylight, ready to rejoin his life. Maybe in time, she would be ready to leave the theatre, too.