It has now been over a month since the last time I stepped into a movie theater. I saw Bad Moms, which is not the movie you want to have as the last movie you saw when you are writing a love letter like confession. And it’s not like Bad Moms is at fault here, it’s all the other little things that get in the way, and before you know it, you miss it…
You miss the little rush into the theater, the dark path between the doors and the theater, filled with expectations, hope and promise of a great movie. You miss the anxiety of discovering who you are sitting next to, or if nobody sits next there and you can dump your bag and overcoat on that seat next to you. You miss watching the trailers on big screens, and whispering your thoughts about it to your friend or your group of buddies. You miss the moment when the lights go out, when you realize the movie is about to begin, and you even miss the commercials before the movie. You miss the rustling of feet and clothes, when everyone is settling themselves and finding the most comfortable sitting position. You miss the opening titles of the movie, the production logos and the moment when the movie just invites you in. You miss the smell of popcorn, and the sounds of people chewing. You miss poking your friend when something cool happens on the screen but you don’t want to disturb the moment with your conversation. You miss the gasps and the small laughs, the big laughs, the unique laughs, and the silent tears that you yourself might be letting out. You miss the annoying movie goer who you have to discipline, and you can feel the support from the entire movie theater of people who were also annoyed by this person, but were not brave enough to do what you did. You miss the twists and the feeling of surprise that quiets the whole theater, and you miss the silence that overwhelms you. You miss the disappointment of finishing your popcorn or candy before the movie ends. You miss the possibility of having to go to the toilet in the middle of the movie, and the fear of missing something important. You also miss the option of walking out the theater completely because the movie is so bad that you can’t handle another second of it. You miss watching a person walk out of the movie theater and to never come back. You miss the little moment, right after the movie ends, when everyone in the theater is still for a millisecond before rushing to get to the door. You miss the look between you and your friends, that tells them how you felt about the movie, and how they felt. You miss the first sentence uttered between yourselves that breaks the illusion of the experience. You miss the joy when you discover you didn’t spill any popcorn, or that the spill was minimal at least. You miss standing in the isle, because you don’t want to squish yourself between the flow of people. You miss slow walking down the stairs. You miss thinking if you left anything behind. You miss wondering if you just lost your friends to the crowd right before you notice their heads. You miss exiting through that small dark tunnel that was filled with expectations, hope and promise of a great movie. And you miss the realization that the tunnel was right, that you had a great time, and you miss that feeling you get after watching a movie, either good or bad. But what you miss the most, out of everything else, is that promise of returning there days later, a week later, to experience everything all over again…
METTEL RAY 
Leave a reply to mettelray Cancel reply