Lucy picked up the eyelash curler on the vanity and leaning forward into the mirror, proceeded to curl her lashes. Her own reflection in the mirror immediately took her back to that night. It was a balmy, humid night in Paris, she was standing exactly like she was now, leaning in on the vanity table, watching her every lash arc upwards under the bronze metal of the cosmetic contraption. His reflection that night in the mirror stared at her over her shoulder. They had just spent the entire afternoon together at a carnival in the Bois de Vincennes, which was just down the street from their hotel on Avenue Daumesnil. Tommy was a boy she had known from Synagogue back in New York, someone she spoke much to, about love and all the other things she often wrote down on paper; not just love itself, but the reasons for it, the existence of it, how to find it...Tommy had gray eyes. He reminded her of the boy in her dreams at night, and maybe, just maybe, that’s why she kept him around so often; so she could often see his reflection over her shoulder looking at her own reflection in the mirror, like what was this night. His gray eyes magnetized into her core and she put down her eyelash curler, and answered his question: “Yes, Tommy, one can find love. I spoke of love very often and of finding it and I have learned, that one can find love just as one wishes to. And I wished to find a wild love. One that would cut me loose, throw me into the wind and set me on fire, hurtling me ablaze into the sky! A love that would keep me running because everything I touch would just turn to ashes! A love like a wildfire, a crazy love, a mad love, one that makes me fear things for the first time, scream things for the first time...I did find that, Tommy. But Tommy, you see the thing is, when you look for love, you will find it, just it. But that doesn’t mean that you have found a person! You can find the love in a person without finding the person that you can belong to, someone who wants you to belong to him. You can be hurtled into the wind on a mad, mad love evolving from a person who doesn’t want you to belong to him.” Lucy’s lips trembled, “And so you have felt a good love, a really good, good love, Tommy, but not a person. So what is it that we really want? I have asked myself this, I have learned to ask myself this, what is it that we really want, is it a person that we want? A person to belong to, a person to stay with, a person who wants us to stay with them, is this what we want? Because if that’s what you want, then that’s what you have to look for, because if it’s love that you look for, you can find it, and feel it, a really good, good love, but then not belong to the person that you find it in. So Tommy... yes I have found love...but I haven’t a person. I don’t belong to anyone, and that’s my fault, because I haven’t been looking for someone to belong to, I’ve been looking for love.” Her eyelids fluttered and her shoulders stiffened, she stared into his reflection in the mirror. “So now I don’t believe in love anymore. I don’t believe in it anymore, Tommy, because it doesn’t bring you to a person, it brings you to itself.” The humidity in the room broke in pearls of sweat on her brow, “and so, I won’t believe in it anymore because if I do, it will bring me into itself, and I will never find a person, I will never belong to anyone, and I want to belong to someone, I want someone to want me. I want someone to want me to belong to him.”
Copyright © 2011 C. JoyBell C. All rights reserved.