When it’s over, she stands draped in the spotlight that can’t match her magnificence. Her head is bowed, and a single tear glistens on her cheek as the beat slows to a stop. Then the lights go out, and when they come back on a moment later, she’s gone.
Swallowing, I close my eyes for a moment and remember how good it felt to be loved by her. To be hers and only hers. To know the creature in my bed and arms shined so brightly, she eclipsed anything else, bringing you into her orbit. Revitalising you, filling you with such love and emotions that you could only hope others ever felt even an ounce of the same.
Knowing I need to leave before she catches me here, I stand, drain my glass, and leave a tip. On the way out, I have a word with security, asking him to walk her to her car, and he assures me he will. I buy a rose at the bar as well and ask them to give it to her, but I don’t say who it’s from.
And then I head home alone, to my cold empty bed, and hope that one day, my angel will fly back to me.
On wings of songs and love.
Lexi
He didn’t know I saw him that night at the club, but of course I did. How could I not? Even swathed in shadows to hide from me, he stood out. My heart always knows where he is, and I sang for him. It wasn’t the song I planned to sing, which tripped up the band, but I did it anyway. I needed him to know.
Everyone deserves another chance.
That I love him.
That I regret how it ended.
And when I received the rose on my way out of the bar, I smiled as I smelled it, because I knew he understood. In his way, he was telling me he loved me too, and that he will be waiting when I’m ready to come back home.
To him.
I don’t reach out that night, or even the next night, or the night after that, because I’m still healing, still growing into who I want to be. I want my life in order, to finish up my night classes and get my degree, and I pick up a show on the west end. I’ll still perform at the club because I love getting to sing and dance there on a night, to express my sexuality and freedom, but I can’t wait to start at the musical as well.
I’m not a lead role, but that doesn’t matter, I’m doing what I love—performing, and I have finally found my thing.
Two more weeks go by, the days moving quickly. With learning the songs, picking up the routine, and practicing day after day and then performing at the club at night, I barely have time to think or feel. But sometimes, between when the dark is chased away by the light and I’m lying in bed while the world sleeps, I think of him. Of his smile, his touch, his body, and his love.
I miss him.
I don’t allow myself to tell him, though we still talk every now and then. Mainly to see how the other is doing, but nothing too personal, nothing too deep, nothing that would hurt. But that little bit of contact stops me from going insane without him.
Has he moved on?
Has he found someone else to warm his bed and distract him from the pain? I tried, I just couldn’t, and I wonder if he feels the same.
I dare not ask, even when I inquire about how he is. Really, I mean, do you still love me?
Do you still want me the way I want you?
The night of my first performance on stage, I am so nervous. I told him about the new job, but it isn’t the same as him being here. I search beyond the lights, wishing I could see him in the crowd, but they are just strangers. However, when I get home that night, there’s a container of food waiting, my favourite flowers, some wine…and a note.
I’m so proud of you, Angel. Know that I’m there at every performance.
Your biggest supporter,
Tyler
I cry that night, and I ask myself not for the first time why I left him. Why I didn’t take him back when he asked. I thought I needed to stay away to find my happiness, but it’s clear he is my happiness, and without him, I’m just miserable.