St. Joseph's Fall Festival,
with plenty of drunk 40-something fathers
and loud 13-year-olds.
With the sounds of some bad band
playing bad covers
of bad songs
for drunk 40-something fathers
and loud 13-year-olds.
It was a tradition, but not for her.
All of this family stuff, too foreign to her...
but he just held her hand, and it was all okay,
and she no longer felt the stares of
the drunk 40-something fathers
and greedy 13 year olds,
as some bad band
played bad covers
of bad songs.
They were together, that was all that mattered.
It happened so fast. Kind of a blur, really,
as the green of his shirt
shone in the fluorescence of the buzzing lights,
and their lips met.
...mid sentence,
as eight giggling girls passed,
and four drunk 40-somethings laughed.
It was not simply "fun".
It was delicious, exotic, and full of beauty.
It gave her a sense of self,
a sharp, clear view of life;
A different sort of kiss
from the one from her mother...or Great Aunt Nancy
had ever given her.
She shook her head, releasing the memory,
and looked at her reflection in the mirror,
seeing herself...without him.
The drama set in....and then the tears.
He had been different, and no one else could be the same.
He was gone, and she couldn't change that.
She knew it all came full circle in the long run...
but the long run never counts at the moment.