Allegra
After I’ve seen a movie, any movie, in a theater, I have an overwhelming urge to write. It doesn’t happen if I’ve watched a movie on tv, only when I’ve attended a theater. The urge generally comes devoid of a muse. I don’t know what I want to write about, just that I have to write. Usually a specific thought or feeling fills me, and that is the impetus to write. This is different. This is writing first, inspiration needs to be found. The predictability of some films convinces me that I could easily have written them.
Tonight I remember why I loved Allegra. I have not seen her in over 7 years, and I haven’t thought of her in a very long time, but tonight I remembered why I loved her; she would listen to me. I don’t mean that she would heed any opinions I offered. Quite to the contrary, I relished that she lived by her own mind. She liked to listen to me speak. Allegra was, and most likely still is, an incredibly beautiful and highly intelligent woman. Most everyone, including myself, was often confused by her attraction to me.
Allegra would often ask me random questions tangential to anything we were currently doing, in order to provoke a long, opinionated oration, which with me, was inevitable. She would then intently listen. There was an indefinable stillness about her that made me want to talk as much as she wanted to listen. Her eyes would be locked on mine. Her smile was infectious. She hung on every word. Her intensive stare and obvious enjoyment filled me with her acceptance and affection. I could be on a tirade about my intolerance for the general inconsideration of the human race, or explaining the intricacies of the trap play; she would listen. Her attention was fixated upon me even if the particular subject was of absolutely no interest to her. She may have indeed been enamored with my oratory prowess, but I believe the bigger truth is that she lavished her engrossment upon me because it fed my ego. I love to be the center of attention, and I adored being the center of hers. This little exercise worked both ways. I delighted in hearing her tender her viewpoint on anything. Allegra spoke with poise, charisma and intelligence. I would get lost in the lilt and rhythm of her voice.
I remember why I loved her.
Yeah, I messed it up, but that’s a story for another day.
Tonight I remember why I loved Allegra. I have not seen her in over 7 years, and I haven’t thought of her in a very long time, but tonight I remembered why I loved her; she would listen to me. I don’t mean that she would heed any opinions I offered. Quite to the contrary, I relished that she lived by her own mind. She liked to listen to me speak. Allegra was, and most likely still is, an incredibly beautiful and highly intelligent woman. Most everyone, including myself, was often confused by her attraction to me.
Allegra would often ask me random questions tangential to anything we were currently doing, in order to provoke a long, opinionated oration, which with me, was inevitable. She would then intently listen. There was an indefinable stillness about her that made me want to talk as much as she wanted to listen. Her eyes would be locked on mine. Her smile was infectious. She hung on every word. Her intensive stare and obvious enjoyment filled me with her acceptance and affection. I could be on a tirade about my intolerance for the general inconsideration of the human race, or explaining the intricacies of the trap play; she would listen. Her attention was fixated upon me even if the particular subject was of absolutely no interest to her. She may have indeed been enamored with my oratory prowess, but I believe the bigger truth is that she lavished her engrossment upon me because it fed my ego. I love to be the center of attention, and I adored being the center of hers. This little exercise worked both ways. I delighted in hearing her tender her viewpoint on anything. Allegra spoke with poise, charisma and intelligence. I would get lost in the lilt and rhythm of her voice.
I remember why I loved her.
Yeah, I messed it up, but that’s a story for another day.
posted by Lunchbox Willy at 7:02 PM
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