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Thursday, May 03, 2007

Prom.
spinning: eden by sarah brightman.

It isn't about the event, it isn't about the money you have to pay, it isn't about who's going, it isn't about feeling self-conscious or awkward that you're not acquainted with half the crowd. It's about finding the perfect dress for each other. It's about getting the same butterfly knots inside before stepping out into the hotel lobby, it's about complimenting how stunning we all look that night. it's about us.

It's a representation of a bittersweet finality of our years together in college as best friends, of an unparalleled bond held tightly by steel strings of care, laughter, tears, love. It's a sad and inevitable closure of another phase in our lives, but finding assurance in knowing that it is filled with good times. You do know this will only happen once don't you?

Sure, we could have a private one and skip this event altogether, but how much meaning can it hold? How symbolic can it be when 'it' doesn't even have a name in comparison? Pardon my cynicism, but wouldn't the absence of its identity propagate the notion that we and everything we've ever had will also eventually disintegrate into nothingness? You would like our friendship to end this way, no? So why, why do you impose all these superficial concerns and worries about the event on one another when none of these matter? Remember, it's about us.

The three of you colored my eyes red and left me in a pool of deep disappointment in school today, without the slightest hint of realizing my cause of sadness. I'm sorry my dears, but my love for you is halved tonight.




11:11 PM