My Movie

 

Did you have a good world when you died? Enough to base a movie on?
-Jim Morrison

 

Roll up, roll up. Come see the show.

The crowd filed into the seats and waited with popcorn

The curtains opened and the movie began.

First came the early times, Bullying, belittling, the torture of a soul that was a misfit in a world that didn’t tolerate one. He tried so hard to fit.

The audience sat, sad, but unable to fully relate to the depth.

Then elation as he found someone.

Quickly followed by the sudden death of his mother.

The downward spiral as they lost a child, and their home.

Then upward as they rebuilt again.

The resilience of the two who had found each other, in all trials they stuck together, kept each other going.

Until she got cancer.

Until the Drs refused any more than “palliative care” from the outset.

Until they made mistake after mistake

Until she died.

Finally. All of the past hit. And he broke.

Dragging himself. Alone, through the accumulated mud and shit that had been thrown at him.

Wading, swimming, pushing through it all.

The audience looked on, stuffing popcorn into their mouths. Trying to relate.

Some laughed, others cried, some got mad. Others were unable to turn away from the trainwreck happening in slow motion.

Many simply walked out.