silly wrongs and vivid rights

Posted: January 11, 2011 in Uncategorized

I honestly wasn’t aware that it was the much hyped about venue of “Serendipity.” As much as I loved that movie, I never really got around to researching its whereabouts. Heck, I’ve never even been to the pastry shop itself. It was purely whim. Always wanted to skate at least once in the City, and it seemed like a great idea at that time. There was no sentimental plot behind it. Though I am admittedly a schmuck for rom-coms and chick flicks, I am never one to pattern my life in accordance to them. I always believed that my life has, is, and always will be more epic than any of the John Hughes movies combined, simply because my life is real. Real and mine.

I suggested the skating, he said yes, we made plans. Much like any other hanging out night. Obviously, we enjoy each other’s company that it really doesn’t matter much what we do or where we go or who we’d be with. And even though I know his skating skills far surpasses mine, not that I have any, I was comfortable enough with him to go through it despite my expected blunders on ice. Minor bruises, numerous bum landings, throw in a face-forward lunge or two, and laughter uncontainable enough to give us abs were all I expected. Then again, you can’t call it magic if it is expected.

I’m not gonna do a run-down of how the night went, but yes, it was magical. To think beyond seemingly perfectly orchestrated nights such as the one we had would be futile and stupid. Those are the kind of moments you just take for what it is without question because of their rarity. Suffice to say, I missed that feeling. Of being that close to that one person. And no matter how much we try to self-preserve, truth is, there is always that one person.

That night, I was reminded that romance is still alive and very much possible; that magical nights do happen, still. And yes, it could be gone in the morning. Yes, it could just be “pretend.” It could be everything after those happy endings in chick flicks sans the silver screen. It could also be something infinitely and unimaginably better. Something pure and real.

I still don’t have the words to explain to myself and/or to my peers what this thing is all about. I know I have struggled to more or less define it in a way that will keep me believing that I still got this under control. Should I continue to dissect it, the very thing that made this particular event so magically different from the rest, would just end up being the very thing that’d confuse me more. I would just end up distorting a beautiful thing in an effort to be more socially and realistically in sync. No thanks. I have had enough of that.

That night is all I know. And all I ever want to know.

I asked for some magic and I got it. That’s that.

There were no bruised bums, not a single wipeout, much to my surprise. No lost gloves (we both forgot to wear any), no lying down on ice… But there were snowflakes, and there was music, and there was that wonderful magical feeling of meeting that certain someone for the first time again.

(I just had to).


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