Play On Maestro
In a crowd of thousands, I sit in the middle of the audience. My dress is fitted, and my makeup is divine, there is not a hair out of place.
I could say that I dressed for the occasion, but who would believe me?
It’s sure to be a marvelous night, filled with music, and filled with love.
There are so many musicians onstage tonight, but I’m only here for you Maestro.
The curtain rises, and the audience cheers as you walk out to center stage, a baton in your hand. The musicians have waited for you, they all lift their instruments and begin to play.
Following your tempo, obeying every beat.
And I have been captivated from the first note played.
You are the conductor, and this is your symphony, your masterpiece.
Every note perfection, every sound your own.
You are in control.
In a crowd of thousands, I admire you from afar. I patiently wait for your song to end, for you to turn around and our eyes to meet,
wondering if they even will meet.
I’m pathetic.
I know that I am, for thinking that you might feel the same, to even think, in a crowd of thousands, you would possibly be looking for my eyes. When I already know there is another girl,one who you love, one who is sweet enough to inspire your melody.
She is more than your muse, she is your reason, and I see your passion for her with every stroke of your hands.
It’s what has made your music different from all the rest.
There’s a pause in your composition, your hands hold the orchestra still. They await your approval to play on.
Oh God, Why am I here?
I don’t even know anymore. To win your heart? To take you away to a place where I can call you mine? In a perfect world, you would change the melody unexpectedly, not caring for the audience’s approval. When it was all over you’d drop your baton, and you’d run out into the crowd of thousands, searching for me.
“It was all for you my love,” you would say, and then we’d run out of the theatre, never looking back.
Suddenly the music begins again, and reality has set back in.
You take the next stroke of your baton, directing the orchestra to continue with your song. They follow your intense movements, performing your melody exactly how you intended it be.
Is it a crime, to feel how I do?
It can’t be. We don’t do anything wrong. You don’t try to impress me, never flirting with those eyes I love so much. You don’t do anything except be yourself: A soul filled with ambition to succeed, a smile that warms even the coldest of rooms and eyes that showcase the truth of your genuine heart.
And who am I?
Just a simple nobody who has fallen for your kindness in a world that has shown me little to none.
A nobody who has fought endlessly to stop my heart from skipping a beat and my soul from flying over the moon at just the mere site of you.
A nobody who wants this feeling to end
But even when the desire is unrequited, the heart still wants things the mind does not understand.
So I fail, and I am helpless knowing there is no controlling my foolish heart.
You already have your muse, your orchestra, your melody, and if I ever tried to take that away then I wouldn’t just be a nobody, I would have become the person I hate the most: A woman who hurts another sister out of jealously, out of spite. I’d be a criminal, a thief of love, a murderess of hearts, creating loss and grief.
I cannot intervene your song just so mine can begin.
She doesn’t deserve that, and my love, neither do you.
Though I crave your beautiful symphony, it is not for me. So, I tell myself, if she’s the reason behind your melody that you’ve created, the song I want to sing along to, then I need to let you go
My heartbreak will be worth it,
To see that smile I adore, to still hear the song I sing along to.
The music stops,
You turn around to find the audience is already on their feet.
They are bursting with praise as you lift both arms into the air and take a bow. The crowd roars, begging you for more while you rise. This is the moment you’ve waited and worked for.
Yet, you seem unsettled, like something is missing.
I watch as your eyes frantically search for hers.
Or are you?
Because somehow in the crowd of thousands, you find mine first.
The audience is cheering, but your eyes are locked on mine, and your smile grows.
Your genuine eyes tell the truth: It’s me, I’m the reason for your happiness. The crowd wants more, but you won’t stop looking at me.
Are you afraid of your own destiny? Are you wondering if it’s with me?
I won’t let you do this. At least not right now.
“Play on Maestro,” I tell you with a wasted heart.
There’s a thunderous applause surrounding the two of us, despite it all, I know you can understand my words.
Your smile breaks, as does mine, I watch as you slowly turn around to begin your encore.
I know what I’ve done, I’ve made my choice, but you have a symphony to conduct, and a muse to keep your song going.
The music is filled with passion, you are exactly where you’re supposed to be.
And who am I to intervene?
I am the girl in the crowd of thousands, a girl who loves music.
Even if the song isn’t for me.