The Music in You

All of the cars were pulling in at the same time. A parade of people looking around- many were smiling, some looked back, and almost didn't recognize where they were. A handful felt lost- almost like they didn't feel like they should be there. A feeling they've always associated with this place.

"It looks so different, eh?" a man she doesn't recognize yells. She smiles uncomfortably and nods.

As they entered, the first thing they saw was a table: framed photographs and the obituaries of every person who didn't make it. Some were in uniform; the plight of joining the military and 9/11. Some had ribbons attached- how had cancer already taken so many? Car accidents and drug overdoses- every person entering the building that evening was stopped by at least one photograph that hit them harder than the others. One that made them reach out and touch the frame; a lump forming in their throat, as they fought back tears. Then there was the one who made all of them shed a tear... They all knew the story; they carried it with them every day. The one that they all saw after it was too late. The one who reminded them:

We are not alone.

It was in this same hall where so many people held each other later that night- asking why they ever lost touch? Promising that they wouldn't do it again. The same lies people tell one another every day.

It was in this same hall that they held each other and made the same promise many years earlier.

As the people began to pile in and move further down, the chatter grew louder, and the laughter was bright. It echoed in ways that many had not heard in years. Tears of joys and for those who were lost. It would turn it into a night to remember.

Most of them had not been back since they left.

They talked about their past, their present, and they did something that they never did the last time they were there: they talked about their future.

The last time they were all there together, they saw themselves as infinite beings: ones that would never grow old, or change. Responsibility meant doing your homework and chores.

It didn't mean raising families, worrying about losing your home, and working two jobs.

The biggest question asked this time was not, "What are you doing?"; but "Where are you going?"

And nobody had the answers.

A woman they all recognized, the prom queen, the class president, the one who called them all here today- took the stage:

"Welcome Back, Class of 1999. Can you believe we've been out of school for....." as she trailed off in her speech, people started to look around the room. They recognized everyone, but at the same time, nobody was recognizable.

Why does everyone look so old? These are not the people I know or remember.

As she closed her speech, she said:

"Let's get this party started with some music!"

"One, two-

One, two, three, ow!

Wake up kids,

We got the dreamers disease-"

This time, the girls grabbed the boys off of the wall.

"Age fourteen, they got you down on your knees-"

A man sat alone at the table, talking to an urn, describing everything that was going on.

"One dance left-"

The boy who was afraid to dance and express himself, danced freely with his husband, while his best friend danced closely by- smiling and mouthing lyrics at him.

"And then we laugh till we cry-"

The girls who once walked 500 miles, enjoy each other's embrace, and standing in one place.

"Can't forget you only get what you give-"

A man looked over at his wife, and for the first time in a long time, he felt drawn to her. He actually saw her. He smiled.

"You've got a reason to live-"

A woman living a third life, dances with the love of her life, she adjusts his tie, she smiles, and knows he is a mess. She also wore a necklace that contained ashes of love lost.

"But when the night is falling-

You cannot find a friend-"

The married couple who had been friends since childhood, say their final good-byes, but nobody around them knows.

"Don't let go-"

Two best friends, who haven't spoken since a road trip, sat across the room from one another, unable to make eye contact. Both wanting to reach out.

"What's real can't die-"

A woman sat with her phone, hoping he would show up, but knowing he had to be with his wife that night. Maybe next time.

"Hold Tight-"

The woman who always stayed home, because she was afraid of turning into her mother- sat laughing and enjoying a beer. She knew in that moment that she was different.

You've got the music in you.