Just one last dance, please.

I used to daydream about finding true love at the drive-in.
It's true.
It would be warm, the end of summer;
One of those evenings where the leftover heat of the day would gently radiate from the ground beneath.
Always loved those nights.
I would be wandering in the open spaces between cars, lightest of breezes brushing my cheek.
A million smiling faces all enjoying the film of the day, oblivious to the majesty about to enfold in their midst.

Always been such a dreamer.

I would see her.
The light of the screen would illuminate those perfect, searching features.
She would turn toward me and smile; I would feel that overwhelming, unyielding rush in my veins.

I didn't know what she would look like.
Was certain I'd know in that instant I saw her that she was the one.
The One.
We would have found each other at last.

This time it would be forever.

I couldn't have been more than 10 or 11 at the time.

..such a dreamer.

You get a little older.
You never noticed before how beaten up and run down that place had become.
You see it now. Decay, litter. Faded signs on even more faded walls.
Words aren't even legible any more.
Makes you a little sad.

How those childhood dreams still somehow stayed alive among the rubbish of old candy wrappers and
empty beer cans..

Then you get even older, and you chalk it all up to impossibilities and absurdities.
Silly dreams of youth.

I think I have lots of places like that inside. It's easy to forget sometimes.
Might be a little tarnished.
Might have a few nicks and scrapes.
Might not even notice the bright path ahead of me, because I'm too busy chasing shadows.

I wonder sometimes if I'm looking for shadows that aren't there.
Maybe I'm too worried about them in the first place.
Maybe I invent problems in my own mind, because I'm more comfortable playing in the dark.
Maybe it's easier to do that then to try really living again.
Maybe I just think too much and act too little.

Maybe...
I don't know.

But sometimes I dream about being at a drive-in, and there's a long-forgotten movie playing in the background.
I could care less what it is.
I'm too busy searching for something.
Among the trash and debris, the crowds of unsuspecting people.
I keep looking and looking.
Haven't found it yet.
Feels like it has to be closer.
Must be.

Hopes and dreams are powerful things.

I don't want to wake up from that feeling ever again.
This is how music is made.