A Fairy Tale

The soft knock at my door took me from the frenzied world of my thoughts to the reality of my warm office, leaving me briefly confused with the sudden change in surrounding. I glanced through the window and was bewildered by the brightly twinkling stars piercing the dark sky that had been a deep blue when I'd last checked. These trances about my novel were occurring far too often, bringing me to these breathtaking but sorrowful scenes and leaving me stranded there for hours on end. Little progress on paper was happening, but I've seen everything I want to write millions of times, especially since it's based so closely on those haunting memories from my past. I'll come to with tears on my cheeks and wet streaks splattering the desk, as I did now, or, in the worst cases, with my wife stroking my shoulders as I choke back sobs.

'Dad? Can I talk to you about something?' my son, Mason, tentatively asks through the slit in my door, once again bringing me back to reality. His voice, so nervous and quiet, was startling compared to his usual noisy and rambunctious self. He knocked again, even the sound of his knuckles on the wood seeming reluctant yet hopeful.

'Of course, Mason,' I replied, trying to keep the wonder and shakiness from emerging in my voice. He pushed the door open, his figure almost comically withered and hesitant what with his broad shoulders, muscled arms, and looming height. Brushing his dark brown curls to the side and bouncing his leg--both signs of nervosity--Mason took a seat in my wrinkled, ripped leather arm chair.

'What's up?' I asked, swiveling around to face him after quickly and hopefully not noticeably wiping my eyes of any remaining stray tears.

'Well, the freshman dance is coming up, and the team's pushing me to ask someone to it. I mean, I know who I'd like to ask, but she's...well, she's different from who football players normally go with. She probably wouldn't even want to, but...I don't know what to do, Dad,' he softly explained, taking care not to look me in the eyes as he spoke.

'Well, the first part's simple, Mason. If the other football players don't like her, than so what? You're the captain, they'll still listen to you and still respect you. Your friendship with them won't change because of a girl, and if it does, they're not worth it, anyway. And don't worry about her. If you like her, go ask her to go with you. If she says no, then at least you know that you tried. If she says yes, then, well, great! But not asking her, that's the worst. You'll never know what could have happened. So just do it! Nothing really bad will happen. I promise.'

He seemed slightly cheered up, but still looked as if the world might end tomorrow.

'Alright. I'll do it, I guess. You never know, maybe the coolest girl in the world has fallen for your average football jock.' I quietly chuckled, thinking how much this reminded me of myself years ago. Except with me, nothing ever happened between us, and I made the biggest mistake. Even worse, I was a coward, breaking her heart without meaning to and then never even attempting to explain or apologize. Years later, what I did still haunts me, still brings me to my knees in sorrow, still wakes me up in the middle of the night with just a damp pillow to comfort me.

'Wait! Mason?' I cried impulsively.

'Yeah?' He had gotten up and almost navigated around the piles of clutter that were scattered around my office, but now he hesitated, hand on the door while turning to face me.

'Want to hear about my first dance?'

'Sure. I'm all for hearing how my dad rejected hundreds of girls for just the right one. And then broke her heart, too!' he said, laughing. My heart cringed at how right his crack at me almost was. But at least the Mason I knew was back.

He plopped down on the armchair, cheeks glowing from his last joke, so much more relaxed with his shoulders loose and his legs sprawled out. But his eyes were the same, wide with expectancy and curiosity. Inwardly, I sighed, not wanting my son to know the terrible thing I'd done.

'Okay. So, the 8th grade dance had just been announced. This was the big event for us 8th graders, the royalty of the school. It was our first dance ever, and it was tradition for all the football players to ask someone to it. I, being popular and a star wide receiver, was most certainly expected to ask a girl. But, unfortunately, I was in fact shy, and so couldn't bring myself to ask the girl I liked, Autumn, for the first week. By that time, a lot of couples were paired up, and I found myself the last football player without a date. So, pressured by the team, I did it. I decided I was going to ask her. Autumn was an amazing musician, very smart, shy, and blind. My best friends, Han and David, insisted on coming to watch me ask her, the girl of my dreams that they'd just found out about, promising to keep quiet and not be obvious about watching us. I gave up on convincing them not to, and so, with them in tow, I went up to her classroom at the end of the day. Every other musician surged out, but she was not amidst the crowd. After a little while, I was ready to give up and try again another day. But then she emerged from the chorus room, softly singing like an angel, her high notes sharp and clear, the sweet sound resonating around the empty--save for me, Han, and David--hallway. I was in awe of her purely flawless voice, and just stood there, listening, before I took a deep breath and walked up to her when her last note had finished echoing.

'Hey, Autumn. It's Bentley,' I feebly started off, barely getting the words out.

'Oh! Hey, Bentley. I didn't know anyone was here,' she embarrassedly murmured.

'Your singing is beautiful,' I blurted out.

'Thanks,' she said, blushing even more. I awkwardly stood there for a couple seconds, my heart frantically beating.

'Um, do you...I mean, will you'.I mean, would you like to go the dance? With me?'

'No, I-' she started, but I cut her off, telling her it was fine before turning and walking away, concentrating on keeping my tears back, not responding to her calls.

'Bentley?' she asked. 'Wait-' she again started, but was cut off by Han bursting into laughter at my failure. I, all the way at the end of the hallway with tears in my eyes, sprinted down the stairs once I knew my best friends were finding my whole catastrophic first attempt at getting a date hilarious. I refused to see them that afternoon, and avoided them all through the next day, ducking away every time I caught sight of them. Completely humiliated, I almost didn't go, but decided to tough it out so my older siblings and parents wouldn't relentlessly tease and interrogate me for missing the big night. Dressed up in my eldest brother's suit, I went to the dance, and hung out with the football team, who, despite all getting dates, were completely ignoring the girls and instead were goofing around. I, however, found myself staring at Autumn, who looked stunning in a shimmering dress that must've been made of sapphires. She would sometimes turn her head towards me after her friends nudged her and glanced my way, her wide, blue eyes full of pity.

It was with about a quarter of the dance left that my night changed completely. Autumn, probably feeling terrible for refusing to go with me, was walked over by her best friend, Lucy, who first glared at me and then walked away. Perplexed, I carefully took Autumn's arm and led her to the quiet of a smaller room, away from the pounding music and yells of our fellow eighth graders. Shutting the door, muffling almost all the noises, I turned to Autumn.

'You don't have to feel bad,' I told her.'It's alright. Really.'

'What?' she said. 'I was going to tell you the same thing. Lucy told me you were looking at me with pity, but it's fine. It's my fault I told everyone I liked you. You don't have to feel bad for carrying out a dare. I understand,' she said with a small, sad smile.

'Huh?' I was utterly confused.

'Your friends cracked up when I responded, so I figured out it was a dare,' Autumn mournfully said.

'It wasn't a dare! I liked you, so I asked you to go with me. Han and David were laughing because you told me no. And they thought it was hilarious how you broke my heart after years of secretly liking you,' I explained.

'Really?' she asked, excitedly but skeptically. 'You like me?'

'Yes...I really did. And I kinda still do. When you answered, I thought you didn't want to go with me,' I explained.

'I like you, too. You ran away before I could finish what I wanted to say. I wanted to add, 'I'd love to.' You know, because you said, 'Would you like to go to the dance with me?' I wanted to say, 'No, I'd love to.' It's kinda dumb now that I think about it.'

'Really? Wow! And it's not dumb. That's one of the reasons I like you so much. You're the only person I know who would say that.'

I stood there smiling, warmth flooding through me, a tingling sensation taking over my entire body. That was the best feeling in the world, like I could conquer anything.

'Well then, would you like to dance with me, Autumn?'

'No,' she said, a look of contempt on her face. 'I'd love to,' she then added, a peal of laughter bursting from her lips, and I regained feeling in my body, letting out a relieved laugh.

'I swear, Autumn, I'm not falling for that again,' I laughed.

We walked into the dance shyly, me leading her through the busy crowd, and became the first and last couple to dance that night. With her warm hands around my neck and my clumsy hands resting clammily on her hips, we awkwardly shuffled around the dance floor, me crushing her feet with mine every now and then. Han later informed me I looked like a walrus on land, while she looked like a deer prancing through the woods. But to me, and to Autumn, it was magical. I looked into her eyes that couldn't see me, and inside, found a simply incredible girl. With the soft music flowing around us in our middle school gym, we found love. Or, at least, 8th grade love. I gently held her for the remaining time, her gentle, cool hands clasped in my sweaty ones. It was a beautiful moment for me, those dances. They showed me that there's always hope, always a chance. That beauty is always there, that happiness can always be found. I was shown by Autumn that night that magic is possible, if you take the trouble to make it.

That was my first dance, Mason. It was perfect. Looking back on it now, it sounds almost like a fairytale, and I hope you get a story like mine to tell your children. That was an incredible night. A night of magic and of possibilities.'

'Wow. That's...That's an awesome story,' he said, after I'd paused for a moment.

'Yeah. It really was something,' I distractedly answered. I was looking off into the distance, back in 8th grade, in that moment. Mason, waiting for me to talk again, sat there quietly, too. After a while, he realized I wasn't going to say anything else, and quietly got up, stretched, and left me to my thoughts.

In truth, I was trying to hold back tears about that night. I can honestly say that those were the two days of my life that I most regret, even today. I hate how I acted, I hate what I said, I hate everything I did, and I hate who I was.That story, the one I told Mason, isn't the real story. It's something I made up, one of the many alternate endings I've dreamed up to complete the actual event. It's a fantasy, too good to be true, a make-believe fairy tale as I said. How I wish it were true, my fantasy, for that way, this cloud of shame wouldn't constantly be above me, my heart wouldn't have a section closed off, my smile might not feel so heavy. But that mistake I made years ago gave me so much shame that there is still plenty left to lug around today. And even enough to carry around until the day I die. And even, just possibly, past that. You see, this is the real story. This is what makes me wake up sobbing at night, what stains my papers with tears. This is the what my novel is based off of. This is the truth.

The beginning is the same as what I told Mason. The big dance was announced, and I was expected to find someone to go with. I was the last football player to ask someone. And when I did ask someone, it did end up being Autumn, the same Autumn as in my fantasy. But that's where the similarities end. The happy ending? Vanished. The fun night at the dance before we danced? Nonexistent. The misunderstanding between Autumn and me when I asked her? No, in the real story, it's all on me. And here is the real story, my darkest story, the moments in my life that I am most ashamed of.

It all started with being at a football party a couple nights before the dance. With me the last one one to ask someone and still procrastinating on having to, Han, who in reality was one of the loudest and most mischievous of my friends, took it upon himself to dare me to ask Autumn to the dance the next day. Of course, in reality, he had no idea I liked her, and would never have dreamed I liked her, as she was a complete 'misfit:' nerdy, unpopular, loved music, and had a physical disability, being blind. I was both excited because I now had to ask the girl of my dreams to the dance and nervous because Han and David would be watching, without knowing I actually liked her, but decided I would do it both for me and to prove to my friends that I could. However, I began feeling increasingly bad as I wouldn't be asking her purely to ask her, but also to prove myself. I convinced myself to confess to my friends that I actually liked her, but, when I finally did, they stared at me strangely, and then laughed it off, so I took the cowardly route and told them I was kidding like they expected. And they still thought I was kidding when we went up to her last class of the day, chorus. I was weak kneed, my heart was pounding, and drips of sweat were running off my forehead. Person after person walked out of the classroom, usually singing snippets from their latest piece, but Autumn had yet to emerge. The last one out, I heard her before I saw her. I'd have recognized her voice anywhere. It was sweet and high, so clear and crisp, seeming to dance from pitch to pitch. It reminded me of a sunset, seeming cheerful and bright at first, but then slowly becoming more and more beautiful, revealing layers of tone and colors, blending pitches together in a magical way, before slowly ending on a lower, melancholy note that faded away into utter silence, but resonating around the room for a long time after. It stunned me with its beauty, its sweetness, every single time, and even today, if I close my eyes and listen carefully, her voice emerges from my memory clear as day, leaving me frozen, just listening to the sound of beauty itself.

And that was what happened to me on that terrible day. I froze, almost closing my eyes, letting the sound wash over and overcome me. I found myself softly rocking back and forth in time to her voice, the pitches seeming to glow and filling me with their pure joy, warmth seeping into every particle of my being. It was only when her voice finally stopped echoing that I shook myself out of my awe and managed to compose myself and walk, ever so slowly, up to her. My thoughts racing about what to say, she actually detected my presence before I got myself to speak. Looking around, blushing, she asked if anyone was there.

I jumped and nervously wiped my brow before responding, 'Oh, hi, Autumn. It's Bentley.'

'I didn't know anyone was still here...I'm sorry. Are you looking for someone?' she stuttered, biting her lower lip with a rosy red filling her cheeks.

'No, I was looking for you, actually. But you're an incredible singer. Not that I know anything about it, but your voice...it's just, it's...it's amazing,' I got out.

'Really? Thanks. I'm not that good, though.'

'No, you are. Really,' I hastily added. 'But I wanted to ask you something.'

'Okay. Shoot,' she said.

I cleared my throat and took a deep breath before shyly saying, 'Well, I was wondering whether you'd like to go to the dance with me.'

'Oh! Sure, Bentley,' she hesitantly but happily answered. By that point, Han and David could barely contain themselves. They had their hands stuffed in their mouths to keep themselves from laughing, and their faces were bright red from the effort. It was Han who broke down first. A muffled giggle snuck out from behind his hand, which then caused David to let out a giant laugh. After he did, both of them went to the ground, peals of laughter bursting from their mouths. Even a 'Good job, Bentley!' made its way out of David. In a panic, I turned to Autumn, telling her to wait, but her mouth was moving in complete shock, no words coming out. Tears then made an appearance in the corners of her eyes as she realized Han and David, my friends, were laughing at her. For saying yes to me. I couldn't make a sound. I just stood there, arms outstretched, as Autumn turned and ran away from me forever. She must have memorized that hallway, as she sprinted down it with no fear of falling or bumping into things. And all the way, she was sobbing quietly, but each one was like a thunderclap to me, magnified a million times and echoing in my head. Echoing, that sad, sad sound, all because of me. And still it echoes in those caverns in my mind that captured her cries, still resonating today. Haunting me, shaming me, making me wake up in terror.

As she ran away, my legs became solid sheets of metal. I couldn't move, no matter how hard I tried. I wanted to run after her, to explain, but I couldn't move. So I stood there, frozen, the terrible event playing and replaying itself in my mind. I wanted to scream, but my voice had run away. I wanted to cry, but no water came to my eyes. I wanted to run, but my muscles had betrayed me. I wanted to destroy something, but my arms were trembling beyond control. So I stood there, all of these emotions and actions bottled up, captured in spaces of my brain to haunt me forever. I did nothing, which is what I loathe most of all. I failed to do anything that might, even just a little, better the situation. I just stood, thinking, as the one person who I thought was everything I ever wanted, ran out of my life, away from me, because I was a coward.

And it didn't stop there. Han and David, who had witnessed the entire thing, thought I was frozen in disbelief because of asking a 'misfit.' They thought what I'd done was legendary, and spread the story all around school. I became Bentley the Dreamcrusher, Bentley the Destroyer, Bentley the Heartbreaker. And the worst part was, it was all thought of as compliments. I was suddenly the best kid around, receiving fist bumps by people I didn't even know, getting clapped on the back by football players years older than me, hearing my name whooped wherever I went. Basically, it was made certain I would hear of the day I most wanted to forget every day that I lived in this town. I'd go home and cry after school, sobbing for what I'd done, for Autumn, for having to live with this cloud of shame.

And Autumn? She was even worse off than I was, and it was because of me. Because of the boy who loved her but was afraid to do something. Her name was whooped too, but in mocking. Her fists were bumped too, but everyone was now snickering as they did. Her back was clapped too, but in order to shove her around. She became the laughingstock of the school and couldn't go anywhere without hearing whispers or muffled laughs. And she wouldn't talk to me. I tried to find her for hours every day, but she'd vanish as soon as I saw her. She'd run away whenever she heard my name. Small droplets of water were almost always on her cheeks the few times I got close enough to tell. But she still held her head high, pushing past her tormentors, still singing countless beautiful solos even with crowds of people booing her. And her voice never cracked, not once. It was only the few tears that told people they were hurting her. That, and the pained expression in her eyes and face that only people who knew her best could see. People who knew her best, and me. Every tear on her face cracked my heart just a bit. Every time a look of hurt quickly flashed across her face it broke me just a little more. Every time I heard a snicker about her, or someone mocking her, my heart was chipped just a little more. Every time I saw a happy couple, my heart sank just a little lower. And when I never saw her again because she moved away a year later, that was the last chip. The last crack in a shattered heart. The chip that sent my heart tumbling deep inside of me, cutting part of it away, never to be seen again. And I never could bring myself to say anything. I smiled halfheartedly whenever someone cracked a joke about Autumn. I weakly laughed with my friends when they recalled the incident. But inside, I was weeping. Weeping because I was too weak to do anything. Weeping because I damaged the girl I loved by an unmeasurable amount. Weeping because I'd never get to see her again, never get to explain. Weeping because I knew that what I'd done had killed part of the perfect girl. Weeping because I'd never get a chance to love her.

And all that sadness has stuck with me forever. The shame is still there, the sorrow is still fresh, the love for the broken girl still alive. Of course, my heart has slowly been reconstructed, by my mother, my father, my siblings, my wife. My wife, who doesn't know about what I did, but merely holds me whenever I need to recover from the bitter memory. My wife, who understands me and has made me feel like there is a point in living. My wife, who reminds me so much of Autumn, and, as a result, makes it even harder to live with myself. But I have. I made it through high school, not happy, but alive. Through college, feeling better but still shattered into millions of pieces. Through friendships, first jobs, relationships, still recovering, regaining, in part, the person who I used to be. But Autumn, the girl I first loved, and who I destroyed, still cries within me. She's still buried underneath all the years of fixing me, under years of slowly putting it in the past. Still there. Always there. Always sobbing. Always paining me.

Now, thirty years later, my wife and I went to a musical. It was Billy Elliot, and I found myself really enjoying it, despite it being produced by a reasonably small company. The story has a young boy, Billy Elliot, discovering ballet and attending classes after the boxing classes his dad had him signed up for. Furious upon finding out, the dad forbids him from going, and Billy has to decide what he wants to do.

As soon as I saw this beautiful lady in the chorus, I knew I recognized her from somewhere. It was like an itch in the back of mind and I simply couldn't think of who exactly she was. I asked my wife for the program so I could check, and that was when she burst into song. I froze, and a violent shiver suddenly overtook me. I'd recognize that voice anywhere, so high and sweet, like a sunset. Bright at first, and then gaining more and more beauty with layers of blended pitches, before fading away into a resonating note that echoes forever. Sheens of sweat were covering my body, and my fists were turning white, clenching the arm rests. My breaths were shaky, my heart pounding, my eyes clamped shut. I trembled throughout the rest of the performance, barely listening, and breaking into cold sweats whenever she sang. At the end of the musical, my clothes were drenched, stuck to my skin. My wife, absorbed in her favorite production, only realized at the end. Concerned, she questioned me all the way to the car. I brushed them off, still trying to contain the emotions bubbling within me that had arisen at last. Once in the car, I started it up to go home. As I began to back up, a wave of guilt and shame washed over me. Here was the golden opportunity to talk to Autumn, and I was running away, running away as I did thirty years ago. At home, my wife opened the door to go inside. I couldn't bring myself to get out of the car, to run away again. I knew what I had to do. I yelled to her that I'd be home soon and raced out of the driveway, speeding through lights and screeching around corners before skidding to a halt in front of the theater.

I leaped from the car, not bothering to lock it in my hurry, and ran like I used to as a wide receiver through the building and backstage.

'Hello!' I screamed, my voice echoing around the place. 'Please, someone! Hello!' I shrieked, gasping, needing her to be here, pleading that she had yet to leave. There was no answer, and I sat down, sobbing, snivelling, on the stage where she had, less than two hours ago, stood, singing her heart out. Forty-five minutes later, I was still sobbing. And it was then that I heard music. Not singing, but the quiet hum of country music from a faraway radio. I quietly stood up and crept towards the source of the sound. Slowly, then faster and faster as a sweet voice began to accompany the music. Her voice. Like a sunset. I broke into a run and followed the singing to a small room cluttered with costumes. I looked inside, and there she was. Autumn.

'It's you. I've finally found you,' I whispered to myself. In a shaky voice, I said, 'Hello?'

Autumn stopped singing instantaneously, and gasped, before nervously saying, 'Hello?'

'Um, hi. I'm...I'm Mason,' I said, using my son's name. I was already hiding from her, running away as I had before. I couldn't run anymore. 'Sorry, um...I'm actually Bentley. You were amazing in the play. The best one there.'

'Oh, thanks...Bentley...are-are you'?' she stuttered.

'Yeah, Bentley, the one you probably hate.'

'Why? Why are you here? I don't hate you, I hate what you did. I put that behind me when I moved, and I...I don't really want to talk to you or be reminded of what happened between us. I'm sorry,' she said, pain in her voice.

'Look, me too. I hate who I was. How I was a coward, not standing up for you. But look, I...I didn't mean to do that. I never meant to hurt you.'

'Well, you did. Badly. I wasn't the same for years.'

'I'm still not the same, Autumn! Don't you see? I loved you, in 8th grade! I kind of still do!'

'Why, then, would you laugh at me? Why didn't you help me or stop those kids? Why would you take the dare? Why didn't you tell me?' she asked.

'I couldn't. I tried, but I was too cowardly. But it haunted me, it still haunts me. I still wake up crying, still feel as if I'm broken, still hate myself. I didn't know how to stand up for you because I didn't know how to stand up for me! I cried every night for years because I hurt you. I relive those moments every night in my dreams and every day in my thoughts. If there is no other noise, I hear your sobs as you ran away from me forever, and so I try to always have there be some form of noise. Every week I wake up in my wife's arms as she calms me, but not knowing why. Don't you see? I tried to find you, every week, but you always ran away from me. I tried to tell my friends, but they laughed it off as a joke every time. I tried to tell my family, but they thought it was just teenage drama and wouldn't listen. I tried to tell you, but...you hated me. So I just suffered in silence for years, in an agony that no one knew about. Because, it wasn't just a dare when I asked you. It was real, too. I was serious, but my friends didn't know. And then you ran off, and this is the first time I've got to explain myself. You didn't understand that I always loved you, that thirty years later and married, I'm still half in love with your 8th grade self,' I said, my voice cracking and throaty. Tears ran out of my eyes at the last sentence.

'You're right. I never knew,' she said softly. 'All I knew was that I was tricked and that everyone in the school knew. All I knew was that it was a dare and I'd be forever teased for falling for it. And for falling for you. It was so hard for me, to not only be blind, but also to have everyone with no respect for me. So I moved. To get away from it all, to start over. And I've been fine ever since.'

'But I couldn't run,' I sobbed, 'because that cloud of shame would've followed me wherever I went. Will you please lift some of that sorrow? It's killing me, piece by piece, slowly draining me of happiness and even the willingness to live.'

'Okay,' she whispered quietly. 'Okay. I forgive you, Bentley. Not because you asked me to, but because you obviously have felt more pain as a result of what you did than I ever did.'

'Thank you. Thank you,' I said, tears on my face.

'You know, Bentley, I still loved you, even after everything. Because even though you treated me badly, I saw the way you treated everyone else with such gentleness, such tenderness, such love, and I kept wanting that to happen to me,' she whispered, almost undetectably.

'I still loved you, too,' I murmured, the tears beginning to dry. We sat there, together, finally at peace, for a couple silent minutes save for the hum of the country music.

Then a preposterous idea came to me, and I asked her, 'This music is wonderful, and, as we never did get a dance, would you possibly like to now? To symbolize, if not our friendship, our forgiveness, and to put our 8th grade selves completely at peace?'

She thought about it for a minute, then said, 'Why not? It'll be nice to finally get the dance that I spent days dreaming about, so...' she paused, deep in thought, before adding, 'yes, I'd love to.'

And so we danced. I took Autumn's warm hands in my own, much larger ones, and spun her around slowly. Carefully leading her, we stepped in time to the music, her delicate arms wrapped around my neck, my hands light on her waist. I was gentle, she graceful, and we moved as one. The music, so soft, was washing over me, telling my body how to sway. I've never felt more alive, with the girl who'd I'd hurt so badly now dancing with me as I so wanted years ago, a faint smile dancing on her lips, her eyes full of caring, forgiveness, the last bits of sorrow having seeped out in the last few minutes.

Her hair, a wave of brown, shimmered as she moved, tickling my arms as it did so. Her long legs, swaying in time with mine, occasionally bending smoothly before leaping into the air. It was a sweet dance of friendship, of first love, of the past. It meant nothing to either of us in the present, other than a mere token of forgiveness, but was entirely significant to our pasts. It made us at peace with who we were thirty years ago and what we did. It gave us something we were both denied of years ago. It put me at rest with the horrible thing I did, rid me of the burden of shame. And because of it, I found tears running down my face as we danced, tears of utter happiness. Pure tears, each one a droplet released from the cloud of shame brooding within me. With each note from the song, with each tear on my cheeks, with each small step, the burden was lifted just a little bit more. It was a melancholy moment, the sorrows of the past still there, but the promise of a happier future making its appearance. It was all happening, all in that one dance. And I enjoyed every second, loving the feeling of her hands in mine at last, pretending like we were 8th graders at the dance we never got to go to. For a minute, it was like we were really there. Old music from my childhood was playing; banners of football wins were hanging; it was so hot, what with a hundred other students in the room; Autumn was again fourteen, in the same sapphire dress as in my fantasies, looking just as I remembered; and I could hear Han and David snickering at us clumsily dancing. And then I was back, back with 44-year-old Autumn, back in the theater. She asked if I had been there too, and I nodded, whispering yes. This time, when I looked in her eyes, I could see love. Tender love, for the Bentley of the past, and I knew that if she could see, the same love would be present in my eyes.

Thus, my fairytale was complete after thirty years of searching and waiting. Magic did happen that night, just as it did in my fantasy. Except instead of purely being happy magic, fairytale magic, it was real magic. Magic that was a blend of emotions, that happens every so often in people's lives. And that night, it was there. I could feel it in the air, a tingling, warm presence that seeped deep inside of me. It took us to the past, giving us the moment we both wanted, and fixed our hearts just a little more. It gave us an unforgettable memory, an unforgettable story. A true fairytale. One that rings true with love, hate, understanding, forgiveness, and just the slightest bit of the unbelievable. And I knew that I wouldn't trade my fairytale for the one I told Mason. I wouldn't trade it for the world.