in a hundred words.

We’re all standing now, the lights shining brightly in our eyes that we can’t see anything except silhouettes of people I’m sure we probably know.

I hear the orchestra starting up, and my heart beats in my chest knowing that this will be the last time.

“So this is what it feels like,” you whisper solemnly next to me. I turn to look at you and the tears are already streaming down your cheeks. I nod, not sure what else to say.

I look back at the light and my eyes well up. I need to feel this.

So I sing.