3Oh Tim, it seems like it was only yesterday that you left me, because the pain inside me is still that much. The logical part of me knows that there have been far to many empty memory dances for that to be true. They aren't really empty, and they make me feel more alive than anything else. They are what get me through the day, but without you, no matter how filling, they are empty. You should have seen the looks on my friends faces when they asked what I would be doing tonight. I think they expected me to break down in tears or break out the ice cream. Because of that, you can imagine their bewilderment and confusion when I said I had a date of dancing with myself. You see, as mush as I hold them dear to me, this is one thing that must remain a secret, because once it is out, the magic of it will be lost forever and I will be alone again.
It's our 20th anniversary you know, and I still can't believe I've spent 13 of them alone. It's April 14, 2009 which also means it's been 21 years since we met also. I still remember it, it was at some convention for the goddamned Titanic. We were both obsessed with it at the time, and quickly found that we had enough in common to spend the entire day together. We went separate ways for six months then, until when cleaning out my purse (finally) I found an old phone number. I gave it a call to see who the other person was...and the rest is history. Actually, it took us three more months to finally meet, and then in what felt like a heart beat, three months had passed and we were married. You were the one to think of the date to get married. "April 14th will be perfect for us Jen, it's the day surrounding our obsession and the basis for us meeting. I'm sure the spirits of the people on that ship will be behind us if we try to turn such a horrible night into something wonderful for us. I love you, and this is the day" you said, and I said yes. The spirits of Titanic *seemed* to be with us, you were right, everything went off without a hitch, and for seven glorious years I was happy. Apparently seven was anything but our lucky number. Who knows? Maybe the fates had nothing to do with it. Maybe you were just meant to have a heart attack at 26 on our anniversary night, but the spirit in me tends to doubt that.
Forget about it though, I've accepted that I'm going to live for a while yet, and to the outside world I've moved on. You would be proud of me, I'm the head of that little company we started up, you know all those restaurants on cruise ships and such, we now own over half of them. Everyone outside thinks I've moved on, that I'm obsessed with my job and it interferes wit any personal life I might have. I'm getting off track. Sorry, but my focus seems to have gone with you. This is the one night where I let my guard down for more than 3 minutes and I'm spending it rambling on about things you already know about.
You see I have this ritual, right before I go to bed, I turn on the local radio station for love songs and dance to whatever the next song is. I dance exactly how I would dance if it was real life, with you here beside me. The only problem is the lack-of-you. I look forward to it every day, because its the only place where I can feel you anymore. Every night, it doesn't matter what I'm wearing or what I am doing, those last few moments before I go to bed, 11:57 to 12:00 is yours, and always will be.
But you see tonight is special, it is what gets me through the year. It is our anniversary damnit, and I'm going to treat it as such. I took the day off, slept as late as possible, though sleep rarely ever comes, and as soon as I woke, I started getting ready. I've got my hair all up, and am just finishing getting dressed when I look at the clock, 5:30. Shit, I'll be late if I continue to dawdle. I finish dressing and quickly clear the dining room of everything, light the candles, and apply my make up. I'm ready now, dressed exactly as I was on our last anniversary together. I turn the small CD player on. I would eat like we did, only I'm so nervous and anxious that nothing would ever stay down, and I refuse to be sick this night.
I wait while the disc loads, and as soon as it does, I dance. I have been making this CD collection night by night, 364 songs, one for each night. I take a small sip of my wine, place it next to the player, and step out onto the dining room floor again. Some people would call me crazy, and I have to say I am close to agreeing with them, but for this one night, I don't care.
I believe that when everyone dies they get to choose one day to return, and on that day, they watch over all their loved ones. Well I know you would choose today as your day, so as soon as the sunsets, I'll always be ready. I dance until midnight, and then I stop, I can feel that whatever part of your sprit that was visiting is gone, and that I'm alone. Slowly I turn off the disc. We didn't even get halfway through it. But then again, we still have another two hours. I take a break for twenty minutes, to change my hair style into a more modern one, and change my dress as well. Now I'm wearing what I would be wearing if this was a real anniversary with you.
It's a black strapless thing, modest to the outsider who didn't know us. I know its your favorite type of dress, and my hair is down, raven black waves cascading around me down to my waist. You always wanted me to grow my hair long, but I was never was able to grow it past my shoulders, something about it feeling to oppressive. Now, its easy, almost feeling as if its your arms around me instead.
Its 12:20, and although your gone, I can trick myself into believing your back. I turn the music back on, and slowly begin to dance. Many songs pass, and I have to admit that I am getting tired, dancing for 6 hours will do that to you. But its 2:00 and I have less than an hour left until you dance yourself into oblivion for a year, so I continue. I close my eyes, feeling the years slip away, forgetting the candles, and barely hearing the music. I'm just dancing in real life and remembering what it felt like to be in your arms from my memory. I can tell time is slipping away from me, so I put the last song I want to dance with you on. Its an old song, circa 1940's jazz and blues actually. I don't quite like the beat, but the words make me loving it over and over again. I start circling slowly, as if my face was resting on your chest and your head was buried in my hair, with your hand on the small of my back, with small circling motions. I listen to the words and close my eyes so I can look into yours. Everything fades away, everything but the song...
I'm making believe,
that your in my arms.
Though I know your so far away.
Making believe,
I'm talking to you.
Wish you could hear what I say.
And here in the gloom,
Of my lonely room
Were dancing like we used to do
Making believe,
Is just another way of dreaming.
So till my dreams come true.
I whisper good night,
Turn out the light and kiss my pillow.
Making believe it's you
I'm making believe,
That you're in my arms.
Though I know your so far away.
Making believe I'm talking to you.
Wish you could hear what I say.
And here in the gloom,
Of my lonely room,
Were dancing like we used to do.
Making believe,
Is just another way of dreaming
So till my dreams come true.
I'll whisper goodnight,
Turnout the light and kiss my pillow.
Making believe its you.
And here in the gloom,
Of my lonely room,
Were dancing like we used to do.
Making believe,
Is just another way of dreaming,
So till my dreams come true.
I'll whisper goodnight,
Turnout the light and kiss my pillow,
Making believe its you.
As the song ends, I swear I hear the breeze whisper "I Love You" though its most likely a trick of my lonely mind. I feel a sudden emptiness and I don't even bother looking at the clock. It's 2:40, and anything that I do to convince myself that you were here won't work again for a year. I turn on the normal lights and snuff out what remains of the candles, slip out of my dress, take off my make-up, and prepare for bed.
Its nearly three by the time I am in bed, and I can't help but look out the window and gaze at the pale moon, casting my room into an almost ethereal, near heavenly glow. I want to get up to dance some more, but I know if I do it won't feel the same, the 'full' memory dances are gone now, to be replaced with mockeries until three minutes to midnight tomorrow. I try to go to sleep, but can never quite manage it. I resign myself to thinking about everything that happened to us, from our hysteria about that damned movie being released, and how we thought it was the best story of tragic love. "Pfft" I mutter to the room. Our was real which makes ours better, or worse depending on how you look at it. I think this is the worst day of all, because you felt so real last night, which makes the day feel so much more empty.
"Oh well" I think to my room as it slowly becomes washed in the morning light of the sun, and I am forced to begin life anew, but I know there is always tonight my love, for a moment, and in a year, we will have a night to ourselves again. I know my associates are going to think I'm crazy, because I can't stop humming that song and saying the words in my head. "Ahh well," I haven't unnerved them in a while, and its about time I do again.
I say goodbye to my 13th lonely anniversary and as I step in the shower, I step up from muttering the words to the song and actually sing them instead. I know no matter what may come, I will always have those times, and I just can't wait for next year. And the song I sing, along with its melody, will follow me all the day and year, until I can return to you.
Making believe,
Is just another way of dreaming
So till my dreams come true.
I'll whisper goodnight,
Turnout the light and kiss my pillow.
Making believe its you.
The End
By Jenna Black.