True Love
(much stranger than fiction...)

I almost forgot how comfortable it felt to sit home on a weeknight. Almost. But not quite.

"....what?" I mumbled, shaking my head and not turning away from the corner of the busy city street. There was a neon sign announcing the restaurant nearby, and the people trickling out, some cautious and some too excited to remember the season, were covered in pale blue. My eyes danced from the girl to the blue; it was contagious until I was suddenly thrusting a ticket into some outstretched hands and being told I could go.

The world seemed so much bigger, so grandiose inside as compared to the push-and-pull I was so used to in my day-to-day affairs. It would have scared me, but I think I knew what I was getting into from the start. It was sort of like the familiar girl outside; her lips pursed in a dazed, yet firm grin. She knew she would be joining the rest of us. Just maybe not physically.

I ran up the stairs to the main part of the venue, desperately searching for faces; for laughter, for conversation, for love. I missed it completely, but I only knew that once it was safe in my heart once again. I found the affection surrounding me at a turn not so far from where my feet had suddenly stopped me from going. I contemplated my routine. I tried to shake the feeling that the world is indeed a place full of distinct trickery and uncompromising situations.

"Hmm?" she had asked me.
I did not realize I had spoken aloud. I stumbled for my words, for my thoughts.
"She said that she hates not having her dream job," he said, matter-of-factly.
"It'll happen."

Laughter.

I took a picture. I made a mental note to myself to call it True Love. I glanced down at my bright yellow disposable camera. It had fourteen exposures left. I took a pad of paper and scribbled the number thirteen on it in black ink. The flash did not go off when I took the picture of the number thirteen. I thought nothing of it, as someone then took the hat off of my head and began tossing it around, far out of my reach. I was caught up in this game - such a silly game - yet I giggled like a schoolgirl and I loved every minute of it. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and with my eyes still closed, I turned to embrace the body beside me. A small laugh emerged from her. She walked away then, before I could get a good look at her face. I contemplated calling out to her, but could not think of what to call her. She turned around then, waving gently.

I recognized the giggle, but not the face. But what did it really matter? At times, I wish that we could only be recognized by our laughter.

A swift cheer emerged from the crowd, now packing the venue, leaving little space to breathe and to see. A sea of color -- faces, hair, bodies, clothing, hands in the air, and energy -- swayed back and forth to the opening notes of another show. I took a picture, hoping to capture the sway and not the specifics of it all. Somehow, I thought I'd understand it better that way.

"What is the name of this song?" he asked, tapping me briskly on the shoulder. I looked back at his face. I stared for a moment.
"Do you like it?" I returned, biting my lower lip.
"Oh, yes!" he nodded.
I smiled and turned away, my answer, at least for then, a secret.

The evening continued much like it had started, and I found myself outside again, surrounded by the same outpouring of the masses as from before. This time, the energy had definitely changed. The only outstretched fingers were to hail the taxis to the trains or the busses. The embraces reeked of goodbyes. The love was put on hold for just one more day. The familiar girl ran out of the venue just then, same gentle smile as always, a ticket for the next night's show placed securely in her left jeans pocket.

When I went to pick up my pictures, the woman behind the counter gave me a dopey grin. "I'm not going to charge you for these shots," she laughed.
Bonus. "Why?"
"Well, only two came out. One is just this rainbow thing, and the other is a picture of the letter B, I think."
"Excuse me?"
She handed them to me then, and it took a moment for me to realize that it was the drawing of the number thirteen and what I'd thought was true love. It was all the same then, anyway. Interchangable, unmistakable, and so attainable.

...to be continued.