Alone after the show. Its nice staring into a beautiful face making beautiful noises with beautiful expressions and a crowd that cares less than you. You know why you're there, you're special, you have a reason. Those moments are magical, and you know it.
But you're still alone after the show.
You say things, and you think people will care. You think someone listens and cherishes and maybe once thinks that you are art. But who will? Maybe someone does, but they are no one. They aren't what you thought they were, their meaning to you lost in the rest of you. Am I the only person that thinks that no one is never enough for them, most especially myself?
Its hard to believe in things that fade and die. Love is a blossom, young and beautiful, with the depth of color that is more than you can say. But it always, always, dies in winter. And then another blossom, sometime. Do I have to have a new blossom every spring? Can't I keep one, just once? No. Because that's not the way it works.
Music. That's a love I can have any way I want. Music is totally renewable, it never runs out on you. It never stops giving or being. If you don't like it, you find different music. You have one magical night together, and never meet again. Or you can dedicate yourself to it every day for your whole life, and it will change you and change for you and be the perfect relationship you never had.
Unfortunately, though. It will never be your companion. You're still alone after the show.
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