Sunday, January 9, 2011

“But, you see, I’m not.” She said, pushing up onto her tiptoes, causing the space between her face and his to decrease in magnitude.  “I’m not everything you think I am.  It’s all just a façade.”  Her voice swelled to a whisper, six and three-quarter inches away from his lips.  His breath mingled with hers, evident in the breath-cloud ridden air.  “That’s why I tried; I tried to not let this go anywhere.  I knew you would fall in love with my façade, and then I, in love with you, would let you into my world, behind the façade.  Behind the mask.”  She let her face sink in closer, still wary of her surroundings.  “I knew if I let you in, it would all die for you, but you’d be trapped then, behind the scenes of Disneyland: the girl.  It isn’t any fun to be behind locked behind the scenes when you think what you see is all that there is.”  She paused, filling herself with the moment.  “So now you know.”  Her face was devoid of the usual fun, stark in the photons emitted by the street lamp.  She forced her tip toes a small bit farther and he leaned down, their lips pressed together.  She pulled away, sharp and humid, pulling herself from his sudden grip, spinning, leaving with fast footfalls.  “Toodle-oo” she called to the night she was leaving behind her, forcing the façade onto her face, her voice.  She didn’t dare turn around for fear of running back into his arms, for not giving him the choice.  Everyone deserves a choice.

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