Sara Tonin
Bluelighter
Out late, at the spot where all of the chic people want to be seen. I am there not caring whether I am seen or not. My eyes scan the room as lights flash and faces blur. I recognize a lot of them but don't care to make the effort to make them recognize me. I dance, and for once I am sober. I still enjoy the way I feel. We all need to feel the lights, the heat, and the music. I am quiet and dancing to this loud, relentless music. I'll let my dancing and the music speak for me. I am so wrapped up in my moment that I almost missed that quiet, smiling, shy boy looking at me. For a minute, I got all self-conscious. Then, to myself, I said "Fuck it! I'm gonna dance like no one is looking." And I did. And I didn't talk to the quiet boy and he didn't talk to me.
It got late and we gathered ourselves to leave. That smile and those eyes were nowhere to be seen. Just as easily as he had slipped into the scene, he had slipped out. "Oh well," I thought. Just another fun flirtation. Silence wins.
Heading home to the next event...I have nothing to say, yet everyone around me chats away...recapping the evening. I start to wonder if I had approached him...would he be as quiet and shy as he looked? Next thing I know, we are home. The party is starting...again with the lights, the music, yet the heat is missing. People filter in and I am keeping to myself. The doorbell rings. I open the door. Guess who? Quietly, we acknowledge eachother and laugh out loud at the way we are now forced to talk. You see the quiet boy was delivered to this quiet girl's house by some strange ironic twist. What happened? I'll never tell.
It got late and we gathered ourselves to leave. That smile and those eyes were nowhere to be seen. Just as easily as he had slipped into the scene, he had slipped out. "Oh well," I thought. Just another fun flirtation. Silence wins.
Heading home to the next event...I have nothing to say, yet everyone around me chats away...recapping the evening. I start to wonder if I had approached him...would he be as quiet and shy as he looked? Next thing I know, we are home. The party is starting...again with the lights, the music, yet the heat is missing. People filter in and I am keeping to myself. The doorbell rings. I open the door. Guess who? Quietly, we acknowledge eachother and laugh out loud at the way we are now forced to talk. You see the quiet boy was delivered to this quiet girl's house by some strange ironic twist. What happened? I'll never tell.
