A flair for the dramatic

  Even before I could write I was able to create stories.  I would sit in my room with my action figures and make up these complex stories, well complex for a small child.  As I got older I began writing.  In school, English classes were never difficult for me.  As soon as they offered them I was in honor level English courses.  It had little to do with technical skill though.  It was all in the way I think.  I have, as the saying goes, a flair for the dramatic.  Not really in my own life, but in my mind.  I can take a perfectly normal situation and make it into something that has ‘movie scene’ written all over it.  I’ll give you all an example.  When I first joined the choir at the church I now go to, there was this girl there.  Let’s just call her Donna for now.  Anyway, I took a definate liking to Donna from the get go, but back then I was quite shy and wasn’t one to really know how to work my mojo, as Austin Powers would say.  We got along pretty well regardless.  Time passed and we both went off to different colleges.  We’d see each other when we came home for the holidays and played in the choir.  I’ve always been able to express myself better in writing and she had given me her address at school so I wrote her a letter telling her about my secret crush.

  This is when I learned that you ask around before doing such things.  I eventually got a letter back from her.  It was a very nice letter, she was very flattered, pretty much speechless for awhile, which is partly why the letter took so long, the other part was that she already had a boyfriend.  So needless to say, nothing happened between her and I.  Now, years later, while I still play at the same church, its with a different choir and at a different mass.  I see her on occassion at the church, usually at the big masses like Easter or Christmas.  I had no idea if she’s back, living her or just visiting or what.  I don’t see a guy with her so I have no idea if she’s still with the boyfriend, married, or what.  We’re never close enough for me to see a ring or not.  It’s always nice to see her, but I never go to speak to her, if she does see me, she’s never come to talk to me.  But I saw her once at a reconciliation mass, from afar.  This is where the flair for the dramatic comes in.  This is what I wrote about seeing her there…

  I’ve seen her again.  It has been years and it has not dimished her beauty or her ability to take my breath away.  Why is that?  Is truly all her or is it simply the moment?  A quiet place, low light, and the soft sounds of a guitar playing.  Maybe it just simply her.  The way the muted light shines in her dark hair, the gentle smile on her face, her soft lips begging for a kiss, her skin, lightly tanned and looking so caressably soft.  Maybe it is her, maybe it is the moment.  Whatever the reason, I make no effort to make myself known to her.  It has been many years since we last gazed into one another’s eyes and I am content simply to look at her.  We’ve both changed since then, will looking into one another’s eyes bring about some different reaction? I do not know that outcome and I do not intend to find out.  Instead I will sit here and let the tranquility of this place calm my mind and my soul.  My soul is calm if nothing else happens this night.  And my mind is ready if something does.  No matter, I will be ready to gaze into her eyes, even if the words escape me in that moment.

  Pretty dramatic huh?  This happened awhile back, but I couldn’t think of anything else to write, so here it is.  Anyway, I’ll try and come up with a more up-to date entry, if not a more productive one later.  Good day to all.

-Damien