The theatre of pain

A cold shiver caresses my spine as our hands touch. I turn to face her but the darkness is too deep to make out her features. I trace the silhouette of her face with my gaze, it seems gentle. And the warmth of her hand shocks me to my core. This peculiar, newfound feeling, hoists colourful flags of emotions throughout my chest. 

  In that moment of contact my stomach folds onto itself, twists, stretches. It doesn’t last long though, the touch. I find myself having pulled back, holding the bicep of my arm in an attempt to soothe myself, without thought, without much success either. Perhaps it is my mind protecting me from embarrassing myself or making it any more awkward. I feel the air shift around me and I hear a suppressed chuckle. She’s laughing at me I think before I see her face turn towards me. The glint on her eyes is the only thing the soft light from the projector allows me to see. 

  ‘Did you see that?’ She asks and turns back to the screen.

  Perhaps yet she wasn’t laughing at me but at the film. I turn my head to the screen and force the embarrassment out of my mind. 

*

The film is a comedic presentation of the intrinsic suffering and the harshness of reality of what it means to be human. The protagonists portray the sum of all human history of emotion, mostly suffering, in a romance with apparently no happy ending. There is a particular quote that sticks with me pretty early into the film, a quote by Giacomo Leopardi; “All is mystery except our pain”.

  Quite the film for a first date. Perhaps he thought himself slick with the romance and although I have found myself in such dates countless times, this one, for all its dullness, feels so different. This theatre, there is an eerie darkness enveloping us all. The light from the projector doesn’t reflect on our faces and through whatever means and wicked jokes the universe has pulled on me, I have found myself sitting with a stranger, watching a strange film and the exhilarating mysticism of it all resonating within me. Pulses of curious feelings reaching every fibre of my being and all that from the seat of a poorly lit theatre and the presence of this man beside me. 

*

It has been thirty minutes by now and the movie has yet to show much progress. I look back at her, then I look down, imagining where her hand might be. I take a deep breath and move my arm on the armrest, covering hers in a gentle hug. Our fingers interlock and I feel a shiver rush through her body as if taken aback by the suddenness of the move. She looks at me, turns her palm upwards and pushes my palm onto hers with her fingers. We stay there for a long while our eyes shining as the movie plays out in front of us, blanketed in this deep darkness surrounding us. And yet we heed it no mind, for our minds are busy trying to grasp as much as there is to grasp from each other. 

  When does the movie end? I hear someone whisper behind me. A peculiar sense shatters all emotion within me. I look at the screen and then back at the woman beside me. We are almost halfway and… The thought of an end scares me. The movie from a romance comedy has turned into a thriller. A ticking clock that counts the seconds towards the unveiling of all mystical things surrounding me. Who is she? Why did I invite her out here? I feel guilt weighing down on my shoulders as I realise, I love the situation and not the person. Perhaps I do want this to end, the longer it drags out the worst, for fear is now turning into pain!

  How unfair! The man in the movie cries as his one closes the door behind her, the wheels of her baggage scratching the concrete pathway. My palm sweats and I pull back my arm and wipe it on my thighs. I cannot stand to look back at her, I cannot allow this euphoria to end! And yet the clock is ticking and the frames are rushing past my eyes and my time here is running out. Euphoria has long since been lost beneath the pain, all is mystery except our pain. 

*

I feel him pull his palm and let go. It didn’t feel like a scared pull, rather a teasing, sort of inviting one. I smile at him and turn my face to the film. The taxi is leaving and the man is still in the house. The film has no happy ending, remember? No romantic scene of him running behind the car, screaming out her name in the rain, no getting back together, nothing of the sort. 

  I look for a while and then I turn my head to the ceiling. A void that extends ad infinitum, it hypnotises me and I get lost within it. Images start painting the darkness, fantasies of what he might look like, of what we might end up being. My smile turns ever larger and I let out a slight chuckle. Shhh I hear someone hiss a few rows beneath me. I turn back to my date and he to me.

*

We are at the end now. The woman has found another and the man, he sits in his tub filled with water, a bottle of whiskey on the right and a blade on the left. She was meant to be his one and yet he wasn’t hers. How unfair, how sad. I turn back to the woman standing besides me, she has been staring at me for a while. I want this moment to last forever as I am lost in her eyes, devoid of any colour, just the sharp white glint from the screen. And yet I know it must come to an end, for all happy moments end.

  I see the pair of eyes move closer to mine and her palm touch my cheek softly. Then they disappear into the darkness. I feel her hot breath on my lips and – I close my eyes, my lips parted ever so slightly, waiting to embrace her. 

A loud thud echoes and harsh lights slash through the darkness. We both open our eyes taken aback, looking at each other for a moment before I break the gaze and look around me. I look down and I see my clothes are wet, the theatre is painted red and a distorted echo sounds from the speakers. The film is over and I hear the yelps of a woman as she grabs my arms and pulls me out of the tub.

  No happy ending, remember?