Monday, July 24, 2006

Come Together



I remember you.

It was a night where I could feel I was perfect. I was just where I was meant to be, surrounded by darkness and friendlove and murmurings of a crowd and the promise of music. I had bitten off more synthetic happiness than I could chew, and it felt, oh, so far beyond any variant of the word "good" that there's no use trying to search for one. My soul was shooting heavenward, giddily, recklessly, and exploding in showers of sparkling light. Divine fireworks, making me shine from the inside out.

And then all around us, the lights shot up like solar flares, blinding yellows and oranges. And there they were, the band, issuing their first soft, pulsing siren lure, calling on all of us to come up with them, higher, and higher, the singer leaning into the mic and whispering...
My brightest star's my inner light; let it guide me
Experience and innocence bleed inside me...

I've glimpsed, I have tasted, fantastical places
My soul's an oasis, higher than the sun...higher than the sun
And the music swelled and wound like a snake charmer's melody, and suddenly, in the luminous smoke filling the hall, I could see.

And what I saw was you.

Just the back of you, many lengths up ahead of me in the crowd. Mostly just an outline in the darkness. But it was as if everyone else in the crowd had disappeared for me, and all I could see was your dark hair, the span of your shoulders, the way you were moving to the music. And a voice inside told me, “This is the one.” And I understood that being near you meant happiness.

And I wanted that. I wanted you so badly. You were so far away, out of my reach, and the crowd was pressed around me and I couldn’t fathom how to get you to know I was there, ready for you. My friends were around me, and it felt unsafe to leave them, because if I did, we’d lose each other in the crowd. And you, you weren’t even facing me. You didn’t know what I knew.

But I wanted you, and so I told myself, “Keep wanting and he will feel it.” And I lost myself in the music and the singer crooned:
Kiss me, won't you, wont you kiss me
Won't you, won't you kiss me
Lift me
Right out of this world...

I'm free, you're free.
I'm free;
I want you to touch me.
So, come on, touch me...
It was exactly right and I felt only joy and saw only colors and raised my hands up to the lights in the sky and called for with the music and when I next looked down, there you were, right in front of me, as if all the people had been moved away to bring us together. You were still facing away from me, and the music was so loud, so very loud, too loud to talk over. I didn’t think you would hear me call to you. I could have easily reached out to touch you, but the crowds were pushing and jostling, so a touch would have gone unnoticed. And I was suddenly shy and unsure.

I want you, I called softly, inside. Turn around.

And you turned around. Your back to the band. Looking right at me. And I looked up at you, flushed with joy and dance and expectation, hoping you understood. And the biggest, most angelic smile I have ever seen on a man came across your face. We knew. We fucking knew.

I should have kissed you right then.

You came close. You grabbed my hand and held tight.
You would not leave me. I could tell you never wanted to ever again.

You whispered in my ear. And masked under the throbbing music, you told me things I’d been waiting for.

You were my perfect one. I was your perfect one. We knew. We said. We did things, pressed close and invisible in the crowd, and made it so.

And then the music got lower and the lights went up, and the world around us could see us again. We stood there together, vulnerable, clinging on.

And they closed in on us. There was an angry rain cloud of a girl on your side; concerned, protective friends on mine, a train you had to catch that night. We didn’t fight them. We conceded. We were so stupid.

You should have stayed in my city, gone home with me. I should have quit everything and gotten on that fucking train, gone with you wherever the hell you were going to end up. We talked about it. We said it. But we had only minutes to decide, and it was too fast. Too crazy.

You left. It was done. I pretended everything was as normal. You, on your way to the train, must have done so, too. Other music came back up. I danced, but it was never the same.

In my mind, I am still running to fix that mistake. Bending time so that this time, when my friends trundle me into that cab, attempting to take me downtown and farther and farther away from the you, I shout out. I tell myself the story of how instead of staring at the intense glow of a line of red traffic lights blinking off into the depths of the city, lulling me back into my familiar world, I screamed for Penn Station. How the cab had barely stopped before I was throwing open the door, running down the stairs and across the concourse toward your receding figure, calling out to you, until I was there, throwing myself into your open arms, feeling your lips pressed into mine, forever and forever and forever.

In my mind, I see us getting on that train and going to that place. Still. Even today.

Do you think about it? Do you still remember?

Do you think about that first smile we shared in the dark, our hearts full of fire and light and want? How my mouth touched your ear, and you hand touched my back, drawing me closer to you? About what we said to each other? How just as we were about to be perfect, untouchable, and sure, the tyranny of the "reasonable" got in the way?

Do you still think about what it would have been like if we’d left everyone behind, gotten lost together in what we wanted and woken up somewhere the next day, wrapped around each other under a blanket of what could have been?

I don’t have to ask. I know you do.

So I just want you to know I haven’t forgotten you. I remember you and who you were that night in your perfection.

That, and also, wherever you are now,
You're set free
To me you're precious
May you always
Shine like stars


Photos:
1º song of Primal Scream by Tania.Paz
Primal Scream by Toni Blay

Songs:
"Higher Than the Sun," "Come Together," and "Shine Like Stars" from the album Screamadelica by Primal Scream. Go buy it.

12 Comments:

Blogger The Retropolitan said...

*sigh*

Another affirmation that I really need a date.

7/24/2006 10:39 PM  
Blogger Miss Syl said...

Retropolitan: Is it just a date you want? That's easy. Go on one of those dating sites.

I think you want more than a date, though.

(And I'm cringing now, because one of those less-successful dating websites hires people to troll my blog and post fake comments promoting the site on any post where the word "date," "relationship," or "love" shows up. And I'm sure now they'll post here. Fuckers. And I don't mean that in a good way. If they do, and anyone sees it before I remove it, that's the ONE site you should never, ever go to.)

7/24/2006 10:46 PM  
Blogger Cherrie said...

Well, that's not me, Miss Syl. I just came along to tell you that I was captivated by your story.

Why is it that sometimes, rarely, you can pick someone else out of a crowd and know, absolutely know, that he/she is right for you, the one you want, the one you have to have?

Why is it that the connections you almost had, or fleetingly had, with such people haunt you months, years, decades later?

If the relationship had taken root and blossomed, would it have died like so many others, the victim of immaturity or jealously or changing desires?

Do we cherish potential more than reality, because potential can be whatever we want it to be?

Perhaps so.

7/25/2006 12:13 AM  
Blogger Evil Minx said...

That was such a beautifully-written story, but so sad... I really found myself aching for you, the missed opportunity...

I can *so* empathize; i think there's hardly anyone who doesn't have a "shit! i should have.." story from their past, but i don't think i've ever read one that was so haunting, or that touched me so deeply before.

*Hugs*

PS You know i'm not from a dating site, babe. I should only have that kind of cash!

7/25/2006 6:32 AM  
Blogger The Retropolitan said...

You're right. I want an epic, legendary romance.

The kind without orcs.

7/25/2006 8:12 AM  
Blogger schmutzie said...

Those moments are rare and beyond beautiful. You are lucky to have had a taste.

7/25/2006 8:44 AM  
Blogger Stille Tyr said...

Greetings from Argentina!

Hi girlie...I have to say i really enjoyed your story...i could really "feel" the mood

7/25/2006 3:17 PM  
Blogger Miss Syl said...

Cherrie: Good thoughts. I think I personally have always been influenced by potential more than current circumstance, though I don't always feel that's wise. It's certainly not easy having that type of personality.

Being both somewhat impulsive and more than somewhat of an instant gratification junkie, I have very few "what if?" moments, particularly when it comes to relationships or intimate moments or what have you. But I do have two that stick with me. This was one. The other I mentionied very briefly elsewhere a while back, but not in any great detail. That one seems even more significant to me than the one I described here. Maybe I'll write about that other one more some day.

Minx: Thanks, honeygirl. I guess it is a little sad, but also in another way nice, as that person never got to diminish in any way in my mind--and I assume in reverse, I get to stay perfect in his mind forever. That's a nice thing, when it comes down to it.

One wonders if great emotional impact and physical attraction can sustain over long lengths of time...I keep hoping so...and if it does, but it's rare, that I'll end up being one of the lucky ones (and you, too, darlin').

And Retropolitan, too.

Retropolitan: Ha! Well put. And yet, I suspect Orcs are part of the package deal. Without obstacles, could there ever be an epic?

Obviously, you're an undercover romantic like me. Bittersweet sarcastic bite on the outside, soft creamy center on the inside. (Ssshhh, don't tell anyone.)

I wonder why I don't like people to know I'm so romantic underneath the thin surface facade? Must have something to do with protecting oneself from disappointment and vulnerablility...

Schmutzie: Yes, I think so too. I'll take some more, though, if the universe is offering. ;-)

Stillie Tyr:¡Bienvenidos! Gracias por visitar y por sus palabras muy simpaticas.

7/25/2006 5:07 PM  
Blogger The Retropolitan said...

I don't think I'm an undercover romantic. I'm pretty outwardly romantic.

I don't see much of a problem with letting other people know it, either. I think it increases the odds of people trying to seduce me, which I am all for.

7/26/2006 7:43 AM  
Blogger Stille Tyr said...

My Gods! I really understand what you mean when you say "having what if moments". It's a really weird experience. In fact I'm actually living a "what if" life nowadays, cause i haven't done some things in the past and now I keep on asking myselg "what if i had talked to her when I had to instead of letting her get married?"...it 's not nice to have those "what if". My advice? Try to avoid them...it's better to do actually something and maybe fail than having the doubt (and the pain) forever.

Bye!
(Listening Bach's Suite per violoncello Nº 1)

7/26/2006 8:25 PM  
Blogger The Rural Observer said...

Truth be told, it was a little hard to read this entry. I know this feeling all too well. The only difference was that we stepped foot on that train together. It eventually derailed, but it was still breathtaking and beautiful.

Meeting this particular person years ago will always stand out in my mind. I will always feel that rush. I will always feel that undescribable force that made the two of us turn around in that very crowded field and curiously observe one another with a dumbfounded grin. It was an outdoor festival and there were many people between us. Somehow, he became close enough to grab his work worn hand and I didn't let him go. Sigh, but he was a traveler.

I could go on and on. Though it did not work out in the end, I never regret being with him even though it was a strange situation. After many years I still wonder - do I cross his mind as he crosses mine?

Believe me when I say this - he has not forgotten about you.

7/31/2006 1:07 AM  
Blogger Miss Syl said...

Rural Observer: What a lovely comment and story. I'm really glad you had the bravery to jump on that train and experience what it was like. Even if you feel bittersweet and nostalgic for it now, at least you have some good memories and you don't have to wonder what would have happened.

And wondering if you still ever cross his mind? Well, like you said to me, trust me, you do. :)

(And on a side note, I just looked at your blog, and I am just learning how to knit!)

7/31/2006 9:05 AM  

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