I couldn’t help but wonder, if only I had lied instead of telling the truth. But it starts a spiral of wondering what if I had never done anything at all? All I could do was stand there and look onwards to her. It was as if a moment was fleeting and I was trying to catch it.
As if the crowd was laughing because they had succeeded in ruining an act so beautiful, a performance so grand that it left my parter speechless. I couldn’t help but try to save it as best I could, to hope that truth wins. I couldn’t. I can stand and let things crumble, I could’ve from the start. But good men die waiting, good men die not fighting. Great men, I thought, fight for what’s right. Great men win. So what would that make me if I lost her to the crowd?
They could watch and be jealous that she was swept away by my performance but it’s unlikely I was that great, I am but a mere romantic. A hopeless romantic. And here I was, hopelessly losing a fight I should be winning. A fleeting moment. Because a man who truly values love will show it, loyalty was what she valued and trust.
I gave her those things, those are the things that brought a sparkly glint in her eyes, there was no need for the stars when I could just look upon her. Where every meeting was a fresh courting. Where love wasn’t just a 4 letter word but a feeling that I couldn’t describe. Where I could whisk her away and no dream was ever too small. No dream. And yet all I could do was stand there and watch as her beautiful dark hair flung in the air as she turned to walk away.
Remembering the glare of those eyes, filled with a mix of hurt and anger at what had never happened. It was enough to break a romantic. The crowd had won. I had lost. A hopeless romantic, praying for the truth. Because fate was what created an “us”, and there was I, praying it would put it all back. If it wasn’t fate, how could it be that all the choices in life, my choices, her choices, we ended up together.
So a hopeless romantic I am. And all a hopeless romantic can do is just wait. Because as I said, even the greatest went down fighting. I wasn’t going to lose her to a crowd unless it was to the truth. Unless it was to my own bad decisions. Unless it made sense. But that’s what love is, senseless. Oh the irony. Having pieced her back together, having thrown the book of logic at the crowds words. Having held her and shared countless happy times. Weeks on end of smiles and laughter. All to be brought down by a heckling crowd. A crowd so jealous and disgusted with how quickly and easily she would have all her dreams. How I was such a loyalist. This crowd was displeased and made damn sure that I would lose out and this was my final curtain call. So there I am, a hopeless romantic, top hat in hand and waiting on the universe to act on my behalf.