I will see her again tonight. Her pink plump lips will deserve my full reverence while her cheekbones arouse the passion within me. This is another Saturday that goes by without speaking to her; another year without speaking to her. It is impossible for my subconscious to stop composing dreams that are suffused with the memory of her, and many times I wish that I would not need to sleep. It is agonizing to have a vivid display of her pink plump lips brushing against someone else, someone who isn’t me. During the day,  I am almost convinced that my feelings for her have been suppressed, but as the sun sets these dreams retrieve every memory of her. These dreams are difficult to forget; she’s impossible to forget.
I have been fantasizing about the dress my beloved would wear. I have imagined her in a mysterious black dress, in a soft pink dress; I have imagined her in a lily white dress, in a conquering red dress. I thought about the heels she would wear, and the way her long black hair would perfectly fall upon her shoulders. I imagined her moon-shaped diamond earrings and the necklace she will wear; the necklace I gave her. Yes, that is how I will decide if I will dare dance with her. I will dance with her if my necklace remains hanging around her neck.
I’m growing anxious. These bursts of anxiety are becoming almost unbearable, and they have become visible as my mother noticed my fingers trembling while I buttoned up my dress shirt.
“Oh dear, let me help you with that. You’re terrible at hiding your emotions. You’ve clenched your jaw all day, and I noticed you searching for your tie- which was clenched in your hand the whole time- like a dog trying to bite his own tail.” my mother said
This was true. I have flipped upside down every corner of his room- even my hamster’s cage, which revealed the unexpected dead body of my poor hamster- looking for this tie.
“Now, tell me why you’re so nervous! You’ve been best friends with Emma since elementary school. Just be yourself sweetheart”
And that, just like every other adult in the world, was my mother's advice for everything. Be yourself. Two simple words, one giant pile of s***. I knew that being around Emma was not the cause of my trembling fingers. It was that the girl who I’d originally go to prom with was robbed from me, and it was my fault for allowing the thief to commit such a heinous act. Everyone wanted her. Everyone wanted her pink plump lips.
Her date was a charlatan; he was just a boy with a fast car- a boy with a mediocre sense of humour, with protruding eyes that revealed nothing but foolishness. He dressed in bulky clothing. The sagging of his pants made his legs appear to be shrinking smaller and smaller with every step he took, and caused him to walk like a penguin. I do, however, understand that one should not judge others because of physical appearances, but this is not the reason of my hatred towards him. I have met with Mr. Penguin on several occasions, and every time he greeted me, he offered a handshake with his left hand. Now, everyone must know that you can not trust a man who shakes with his left hand.
How could I allow such a fool to take my beloved by her waist, and dance with her to slow melodies containing the darkest magic in them? There is no darker magic than the witchcraft within every love song. They have the power to blossom love(genuine or artificial) in us all. Every love song describes her infinite beauty, and they emit sunlight to the love that she has planted upon me; it grew strong and firm.
There were many pretty girls in black dresses, including Emma,  but they seemed tedious when my beloved walked inside the ballroom wearing a compelling red dress. She walked in with so much confidence that her beauty became intimidating. I could see all heads turning to capture the image of her. She wore crimson lipstick that made that made her lips look like petals from a red sun; she was a red sun that made the stars around her seem dull and insignificant. I saw her date gazing at her with his protruding eyes that began to bloat at the sight of her. I wished nothing more than his eyes to pop out and roll on the floor in the deepest hole of the earth. He held her hand firmly; as if it would go numb without his touch. As unbelievable as it seems, I could not blame him because I knew he was holding a diamond amongst thieves. He loves her. She can make anyone lover her, but seldom can she find a man that brings her happiness. I knew she was not happy with him as I noticed the broken smile on her face.
As she strode closer to me, I noticed that her neck was naked. Her collarbones were an addition to her art, but they seemed lonely without my necklace watching over them. She did not love me anymore and my soul began shivering at the thought of never crossing paths with hers. She avoided me at all times and as Emma and I strode closer she focused her eyes on the ground. She did not dare to look up, her smile remained broken, and even I couldn’t fix it.
Laughter filled the room; sorrow filled my soul. This poison within me began choking me, and I had to escape it. The only escape was leaving the room; away from her. As I carried my hopeless body outside the sky seemed darker than ever. The sky was naked with no stars, but it seemed big enough to embrace me and blanket my sorrow. Everything was calm and quiet until a sudden wind began to drift by, making the wind chimes cry- they cry louder and louder, as the poison filled the air.

“I thought you’d left.”

Her voice was delicate and I could sense a bleak tone to it. I did not dare turn around; I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me; an illusion. What happened next was euphoric. She grabbed my hand and guided it towards her chest. On her chest I could feel the cold stone of the necklace as it contrasted her warm skin. I was then facing her luminous emerald eyes that seemed to be happy at the sight of me. Immediately, as an unconscious effort, I pulled her closely with my hands around her slim waist. There she was, in my arms again. There we stood, still as the sky above us, without saying a word. Then we danced to the music; not to the music inside the ballroom, but to the melody the wind played on the wind chimes. The sudden wind appeared to be a gift from God himself. The wind chimes proceeded with their melody and we danced, and we danced.