A woman with frivolous dreams...

You open your eyes and look up at him... it is evening still and you have just ended your embrace. He looks down at you with his big purple eyes... concerned... loving... and slightly tearing up. Your first ambition was to kiss him... now it is the latter. You wrap your arms around his waist, giving him a hug. Your head is gently rested over his right shoulder, as is his over your right. You hold on to him tightly... not wanting to let go... ever. You frown, not sure why. You close your eyes...

"It's never too early to say I love you..."

You dwell on your words... did you mean them?

"I love you..."

Did he mean his?

You open your eyes and look down. Thousands of feet above the ground, contemplating love... will it thrive or die... soon? You wonder, high above the earth... and then your world catches up to you...
"I'm sorry, but I really must be going...", you find yourself saying, and, as quickly as you were up, you find yourself back down again... by the entrance you came into, earlier that day. He looks at you, his cape softly blowing in the midnight wind. You stand there, looking down, almost as though you are ashamed of looking at him in the eye. Your hair and dress are flowing with the breeze. The stars and the moon are shining down on you, putting you in an unknown spotlight. You wait a few seconds before turning around and walking to your awaiting carriage.

"See you in nine years..."

You stop. The words he just had to say, confirming what you could not let yourself believe... a fling... just a... fling... but he said it so quietly, as though he did not believe it himself... was it because there was no confirmation of another meeting that the words "nine years" seemed relevant to bring up? And the "I love you's..."... with those words they meant nothing...
You are a girl with ambition... you want more in your life than just games... you lick your lips... it is time to say the impossible...
You look down. "I...", you say, quietly, unsure of yourself. You clench your gloved hands together, shaking them, holding back.
"I've gotta be stronger than this... for him... for us...", you think, tightening your jaw. You turn around and walk back to him. You look into his eyes with full determination.
"I want to see you again...".
He looks at you... he smiles, looking very relieved. He takes hold of your right hand with his left. He closes his eyes and kisses your hand gently. He opens his eyes as his lips slowly leave your hand and looks at you.
"I'll be waiting...".
You stare at each other for a minute, he still holding your hand. You turn around and walk away, his hand slowly... gently... leaving it's grasp...

You are home. It is late at night. The lights inside are out. You walk into the house. Nancy is waiting for you, holding a burning candle in her hand.
"Where have you been?".
"I...".
"Do you know what happens to women when they stay out late? Hm? Do you have any idea?". Nancy walks up to you with an angry look on her face.
"I was not looking for trouble, Nancy...".
"Oh? Then just what were you looking for? The gold at the end of a rainbow?".
"I said, I was not looking for trouble!", you say, angrily and putting your coat on the rack.
"Oh, that's so, huh? It's so hard to tell what you're after these days that a poor woman like me only assumes the worst... and your hair!", exclaims Nancy, looking at your long locks. "What happened?".
"If you really must know, I lost my pin...".
"Where at?".
"The circus...".
"Oh... oh, really... are you sure that isn't the only thing you've lost... at... the circus?", inquires Nancy sarcastically. You slap her.
"How dare you say such a thing?", you exclaim, holding back anger. You turn away from her and start to walk up the stairs.
"So it's true then...", she says quietly, rubbing her cheek.
"NOTHING'S TRUE! EVERYTHING YOU SAY IS LIES!", you shout back, looking at her with angry eyes. You start to walk up the stairs again.
"Then don't expect advice from me...", she says quietly, "When you find out what is really true... and what is really fake...".
You open your bedroom door and walk in, slamming the door behind you. You run over to your bed. You collapse on it, sobbing in your pillow.
"Why can't anyone ever agree with me? Why am I always wrong?".

"That's the trouble with being a fool... you're always going overboard..."

You look up.

"You're not a fool... and neither am I...".