With the dance of his fingers,
the puppeteer sway the puppet
to the tune of the melody.
On stage,
the puppet's strings were invisible.
Under the spotlight,
she appeared to be alone.
Watching her repetoire of
sorrows, love and longing,
the audience cried at her pain,
scowled at her overdramatic antics
and smiled at her contentment.
But they saw nothing
of her happiness she basked in.
The hidden smile of her puppeteer
from the dark shadows of the wings.
The closeness of their duet,
him leading her with
firm but ever so gentle tugs at her strings.
He gave her life.
And the ability to dance,
making her the girl that many men swooned after.
He was her god.
The giant that controlled her universe.
She worshipped him.
Feared him and cared for him.
Nevermind that
they were always far apart,
they were always connected by strings.
Always,
but not forever.
"Find happiness without me."
The puppeteer snipped off her strings,
and sewn her heart back.
She can now do her own dance,
one that tells of how
it's like of being loved.
But she doesn't know
of any other dance.
Who is she without him?
If there's a dance of being loved,
she needed him to teach her,
show her how it's done.
He never did.
Neither did he fulfill
all the empty promises he made.
Without him,
she will leave her strings
trailing into the empty wings,
pretending that he is
at the other end.
Then smile and giggle geefully
at the imaginary life
the puppeteer painted
with his lies.
She merely doing what she does best---
loving him.
And perform that duet that
now speaks of her love,
alone.
---------------------------------------------------------
Christmas is due to be here soon,
a year should be enough.
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