You sit next to me. We've been here many times before. Voices whisper as images flash upon the screen. A singular glance puts you at the center of my thoughts.
Actors on the screen tell us how life's supposed to be. We both know things could never be so perfect. Perfection can never be reached. Although, you constantly trick my mind into seeing it as your denotation.
Good men turn to monsters upon love's injection. Yet, you glance back with a smile upon your face. The connotation of it all sends a shiver down my spine. Soon you turn back, but the pseudo-sanctuary of the cinema lacks interest in my eyes. Your wonderful smile appears more entrancing.
Curled around the cup-holder, your saintly fingers beckon for my touch. I shan't--I can't--give in. An explosion of emotion on the screen reminds me of the bomb trapped in my heart. Horrid as I am, giving it away would surely mean destruction. Holding it in means suicide, but my death lacks the detestable twist of your demise.
Life on the screen fades to gray. Tears fill your eyes, almost infecting mine. Chances are you won't stay at my side. No, real life is never so grand. Our night ends with the movie. My day ends with your final smile my way. Afterwards, the clouds come and dreams test my sorry eyes. Yes, I've been here many times before. Still, I come back; for every tragic end is worth the pain.
My life shall never become fiction; for it is only fiction.