I saw the sparks from a hundred feet away, warm and glowing against the cold October air. As I walked into the spacious outdoor theater, I dived headfirst into every emotion I was feeling, the things I had been hiding from just moments ago. I sat in the first row of seats, watching the fire consume the wood. I wanted to pretend that you weren't here. I was hurt. There was no masking the look of sheer dissapointment on my face. As I heard the leaves crunch behind me, I told you this. You sat next to me, but I refused to look at you, for fear of appearing weak. We didn't speak for minutes, minutes that seemed like hours. Soflty you said, "Look at me." I looked up, waiting for the words I wanted to hear, but doubted I ever would. I was just one person. How could you ever love me? You told me to watch the stars, so I did. You told me to keep and open mind and a clear head, so I did. You said, "Every star is one person that I love, have loved, or will love in the future." You told me to look at the full moon, so I did. "It shines brighter than any star," you said. I stared at the moon, pondering the possibilities of what you could mean. Finally I undertstood. I had to give up, just this once. I had to lift the foot that I had put down so many times before. I had to surrender to the fact that I can't control everything. And as I thought, the world was silent, except for a small voice whispering over and over again, "You are mine."
November 2, 2010