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Well, after five years, two months, thirty-one days and twelve minutes, I am here. I am here, where I have wanted to be for so many years and I can finally say that everything is perfect. My dearest on my left and a large bottle of champagne on my right, on a tropical island with no problems; it’s incredible at least.If my life was an original soundtrack, there would be songs which would be characterised with harpsichord solos, maybe with a clarinet here and there. Percussion would also be utilised, often suggesting something sinister or bad. Lots of moments in my life, especially my mission for love, have needed a song here and there; however seeing as technology isn’t quite advanced enough to have songs in Word Documents, you will have to imagine. It’s simple, isn’t it? If not, please depart.
Anyway, the story commences at my Aunt Vivi’s party. She was a woman whom although very ugly, was also nice and made the best cakes. Unfortunately, she ate them all before we had a chance to eat them; therefore this was only a suspicion because we thought that if she ate them all the time, they were probably delicious. Well, we were at Vivi’s when I saw a guy. Not an ordinary guy that you can see any day; this guy was brilliant. I can’t possibly describe his appearance; imagine the most gorgeous guy in history. Your guy probably isn’t as good looking.
I walked near him, drinking my champagne. Eventually, I fathomed the courage to speak to him, after I’d had a bit too much to drink. Prior to now, Vivi told me that there would be a new guy at the party, an American student called Dave. I thought that he had to be Dave.
"Hi", I said, « My name is... "
“My name is Dave, “ he said. I wasn’t able to say my name. Although I thought Americans were stupid, I decided to continue our conversation.
“Dave? That’s a nice name, isn’t it? You’re the first person with that name that I’ve met! Congratulations! I want to kiss you in fact! For a real French present! »
It was clear that I’d had a bit too much to drink. I was drunk, but I knew what I was saying. Dave wouldn’t kiss me; and I was becoming very sad. Although that I was drunk, I wanted him. All night, I tried to kiss him, but I wasn’t successful. After the party had finished, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I asked Vivi for his telephone number, but she was always eating her cakes, avoiding me completely. Despite the difficulties, I was determined to be with my dearest, my love. Approximately, the music has to start now; maybe a song with cello and double bass solos.
~
If you’ll permit me, I want to paint you a scenario. Imagine that you have been invited to a ball, a masked ball in fact. If you haven’t been to a masked ball, it’s like this: normally, there are lots of people who are either ridiculously pretentious or poor people who are only here because they won a sort of competition that you find on the back of milk cartons. Although there is a big difference between the rich and the poor, a typical person wouldn’t notice. Instead, they can drink and dance and pretend to be pretentious.
In many ways, the world is like a masked ball; with the rich people and the poor people and pretending. Moreover, since the ball is masked, when you want to look for someone that you may know, it’s always very difficult because everyone is wearing a mask. Therefore, you have to search for a long time, and you ask yourself if your person is actually at this masked ball or in your imagination. However, I thought that Dave didn’t live in my imagination, and I was determined to find him, in the big masked ball that is our life.
A long time ago, Vivi told me that Dave would return to Wisconsin on the 3rd April; which gave me lots of time to organise the trip that would be the best decision of my life. Piece by piece I arranged it, assuring myself that I would go to every place where Dave might be. My flight, scheduled for the 27th May at 9:02am, would fly me across the Atlantic Ocean until the magical land of the USA was visible. I would stay in lots of little motels, making sure I didn’t buy too many clothes and the like. This would be an unforgettable adventure; I was so happy that I would see Dave, the love of my life, my flea, my dearest. Every word of love could describe him.
Anyway, before I knew it, I was eating bad quality food on a transatlantic flight, thinking about how content I would be when I saw Dave for the first time in a month. I ignored the dry chicken and the bread because I knew that the best was approaching. Somewhere in this big land that is the United States, Dave was doing something, and it made me smile. Somewhere, Dave was having a shower or maybe doing his homework. While my little television showed me “Sleepless in Seattle”, I knew the film would manifest itself in my life.
~
The United States is a place that you can’t imagine yourself loving, probably because like a masked ball, there are differences that one can’t see except if one looks around. First of all, one thinks that everything is the same – the restaurants, the people possibly – and it seems like a small country. However, if one spends ten years there, their opinion is going to be different.
It’s a big country, the United States, but the country’s size wouldn’t stop me from finding my dearest. I had stopped my tertiary education to look for Dave; and instead of studying I was working in lots of restaurants and from time, I danced for money. My new life was difficult, but I remembered that everything would be perfect when I found Dave. The internet became an invaluable resource as every day, I looked for him on Google and then I would drive down every street in Wisconsin, from time to time asking someone if they had heard of him. Most of the time, I wasn’t successful, but one day changed my entire life.
This part of the story would need music for sure, but it’s difficult to determine what sort. Normally, romantic violin solos would be ideal for scenes like this, when finally the amorous couple would meet and would kiss till the sun would rise. However, this seems appropriate only if it is accompanied by sinister solos like from the other scenes. I think that any murder has the potential to be contradictory, and this is no exception. Passion and hatred are so close together that it’s not a big surprise.
I’m sure that you know what will happen, so I won’t explain it to you. It’s clear that passion and hatred combine; culminating in bloodthirsty love and eventually, a murder, emerged from my desires for this guy, the love of my life, my weakness that forced me to do this horrible crime. Well, on this tropical island, Dave is with me, not breathing, immobile, but still perfect. It mightn’t be the ending that you wanted, but in one way I think that it is perfect. I finally have Dave and although it isn’t the best ending, it’s the only ending.
Oh, and despite the fact that I'll probably never see him again, I hope J is still frequenting this blog as much as ever. I would honestly like to think that my writing leaves lasting impressions on people.
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