the unfortunate price of a hopeless romantic

By Abby Vicens

No no. Don’t worry.
You didn’t ruin this movie for me.
No one can, and no one will.

This movie has attached itself to every
fiber of my being;
intertwined with my soul;
kissed every part of my membrane.

To the point where you might say
I am this movie—this movie is me…

But it’s also you.

Please understand that:
you were supposed to be another one of
Toulouse's all so talented,
charmingly Bohemian,
tragically impoverished protégés
And I…
something of an actress;
obsessed with the color red!

You see,
I didn’t want love.
I don’t have time for silly love songs
and sappy poetry
and pretty things for me to woe

But, oh,
you made it sound like such a
splendor thing.

How dare you whisk me off into the night sky
and lay your
love
between the stars
and spin me valentine evenings
with moonshine in my eyes.

We were supposed to be heroes.
Remember?
You, king;
I, queen;
stealing time as if the world didn't matter
because we’re lovers.

We were supposed to be heroes
forever and ever.
At least that’s what I thought you said.

I didn’t want this to end.
For the first time in a while you made me feel
something more then myself;
more than something of an actress;
like I didn’t want to act anymore.

Now that it’s over,
I can’t help but wonder if you still
look out at me from your humble abode
as I sit in my jeweled elephant;
drowning in self pity and regret…

But I’m delusional.
I’ve convinced myself you were the poet
and I the actress.
It’s far from the truth because

you’re you
and I’m broken

So, no.
You didn’t ruin this movie for me.
No one can, and no one will.

But,
perhaps this is my sign to stop wasting time with
pennyless poets
and instead invest in
rich dukes…

Abby Vicens is a freshman theater performance major here at Wagner. From Chicago, going to school in New York has so far been a wonderful experience! Apart from the singing, dancing, and acting, Abby loves writing poems, plays, and short stories. She’s currently working on a play about Rita Hayworth—which is also a love letter to her late grandmother. She’s been thinking about minoring in journalism or creative writing. Abby’s thrilled to be presenting her work in the first edition of the Wagner Beacon!