Light From the Shadows

Lights From the Shadows
It was the night of our first date; both of us shy but you especially so. You wore a black and white dress to match your black and white self. Your heels not quite putting us at the same height. I don’t remember what I wore but I felt you were a little overdressed to go see a Coen brothers movie. I picked you up at your dorm, Shasta, and walked you to your car in the on-campus parking lot. Along the way I complimented you on your dress and you awkwardly accepted the compliment. You drove us to the theater in your silver Saturn; I believe I refrained from criticizing your terrifying driving, but I was nervous for reasons other than being on a first date as you veered across the roads, never slowly but always suddenly braking, jolting us both forward at every stop. You’ve certainly become a better, yet still unfocused, driver since then. It always terrifies me when you drift across the median, not seeming to notice the bumping of the black tires over the yellow reflectors. And when other cars close in on us, their headlights reminding me of the light at the end of the tunnel that I refuse to walk towards, I nervously beg u to please move to the right side of the road and we live to see another oncoming vehicle.
We parked and walked in from the light of sunset to the brightness of the lobby to the mildly lit black of the theater where “Burn After Reading” was playing. I had insisted on paying for the tickets, not knowing how you felt about that kind of things.
The previews were amazing, as always. I don’t remember what movies they were for but I would certainly remember if I saw bad previews. The lights dimmed; the room went to a pitch black, focusing everyone’s attention to the screen. Except mine. I was too busy trying to figure when and how to get my arm past your curly blond hair, so as to reach your shoulder. I have yet to go to a theater with seats that easily allow you to do this.
About halfway through the film you leaned forward for a second and I snagged the opportunity--putting my arm across your chair so it would lie across your shoulders when you leaned back. You happily kept it there. I don’t think I was quite as happy about it since you never let me move it much and it really hurts to leave an arm out like that for a long time; especially when most of the forearm is past said shoulders, hanging out in the open with nothing to lean on. Too bad I overshot. Though it certainly would have been a lot more awkward if I undershot and you leaned back to find your head clenched in my hand as if I was trying to crush an egg. I don’t think I could have recovered from something like that.
Well, my arm survived. And the pain it endured was not in vain for it made us closer and more cuddly on the drive to the lot and the walk back to your dorm. I’m pretty sure we were holding hands by this point but the clock was running for me to try for a kiss. We had talked about my astronomy class, so I asked if you wanted to walk out onto the baseball field and share in what I learned. I pointed out every god damn constellation, star, and planet I had learned and since forgotten. From the Big Dipper to Polaris. From Sagittarius to the Summer Cross and the Northern Triangle. Or was it the Northern Cross and the Summer Triangle? Doesn’t really matter I suppose. They’re all just pinpricks of light amongst the cold, empty, and unforgivingly brutal darkness that is our universe. The universe; a never ending immensity containing all of that which ever has or ever will exist. And I was attempting to harness it so as to make our first kiss seem natural and spontaneous rather than plotted since the date began. Probably would of worked to but you were too short for me to go into it without being pretty straightforward and obvious about it. And I simply don’t have the confidence to go in for a first kiss in a manner that leaves me so open for denial.
Strange, that in the mortal world I fear not death nearly as much as dejection. At least with death, it happens once and your done. As done as anything can be. But with dejection comes only the opportunity for sadness, despair, and darkness. And in darkness, we are all alone. For even if we are among each other, we do not know. Our sight fails us in pure shadow. And our others senses do not strengthen but dull. We dull the outside world, believing their is nothing there for us. Instead we search for light within. Hopefully we find it and use it to light our way out of the lonely night, lighting torches along the way. But if don’t find a light, we simply fall into further darkness. Sinking deeper with no hope of escape until a savior dives after you, lifeline tied about their waist, and brings you back up to the world of the living. But if no one will take this risk and you never find your own light, you will only become enveloped by darker and darker shadows until you don’t even have your thoughts to keep you company anymore.
Anyway, I walked you back to your place; both of us mumbling something about it being to cold to stay out much longer. As I brought you to the front of Shasta I knew there was little time left to let you know I liked you. Possibility at dejection be damned. If there’s one thing I’ve learned so far in this life, it’s that I always regret what I didn’t do much more than what I didn’t. I hugged you goodnight and, as we pulled apart from each other, quickly kissed your cheek. Unfortunately, I picked a cheek your hair had fallen across so that’s what I kissed. Hair. I said goodnight with a smile and quickly walked away. A little embarrassed, but I’m pretty sure I got the point across since we’ve been dating for over a year now. Certainly not dejected and certainly not regretful. Things don’t work out much better than that. Because even when we are in the dark, with no lights to reflect off of your golden locks, I can always find light within your irises of chocolate.