Quite a Night

“After watching Spider-Man 3, I’d felt like somebody slapped a giant penis right in my face.”

“Tonight, this movie’s gonna slap a giant blue penis in your face, from what I’ve heard.” Opening day. I’ve waited. I’ve anticipated. I’ve weighed my expectations against the harsh realities of film. We went. We watched. And as people piled out of the cinema, everyone died to know each other’s thoughts. Nobody wanted to share.
“I gotta take the piss of my life.”

As I remember explaining it as, “I knew every single cat in there had seen the same giant cock onscreen that I had, but I still couldn’t work up the ability to piss with them standing there watching me.” Fucking pissed me off.
We pulled out of the parking lot, one at a time we filed into the highway, each of us disappearing as shadows faintly listing away into the dense fog of crisp night air. Conversation rang through Alex’s car, as if Philip Glass had never stopped once the movie did. We spat our wisdom to each other, making a habit of forgetting that Joey was silent the entire time. I could’ve talked the world away. The thrill of other people brings out another life in me. The excitement makes me forget about the woes of the day. The pains of feeling betrayed. The emptiness of having lost hope. Every tear I squeeze out of my fleshy cheeks when I think of her. How disgusted I am with myself for feeling betrayed, for ever having hope, for being so blind to love’s own crippled state. That night, somewhere, an old woman dies alone. Good friends meet again after so many years, and wonder how they’d ever fallen in love. A dog is sniffing a street sign; it’s owner gets hit by a stray bullet. A convenience store clerk walks home with money from the register. A pianist falls asleep, drunk, but peacefully in his brother’s bed. A priest is touching scratches on his back with ointment. Three friends are riding home, high in a state of extacy, long from tired and incredibly worn out. She is sleeping. He is thinking of her. I am content. This is a world of fiction, but I’ll remember everything, and every little moment that could’ve disappeared with us into the darkness remains. I see their lights in place long after they slide away from me. And I will know that she will never love me. I will know that life will never be easy. I will know the pains of being a villain. I will become nothing more than memories from other people who were never there that night. I will know that the world will never know how much I love. Only one person deserves to know.