A charmingly woeful tale…

This is the very sad story about a girl who returned home to a state, let’s say Idaho, just after one of her favorite bands performed a big show there. Hypothetically, for legitimacy sake, we’ll say this band was Death Cab for Cutie.
The girl was pretty sad. {She also missed getting to sit down and chat candidly with Matt Damon, but that’s an entirely different story…} So, sadly the SEE DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE LIVE part of her life’s goals check list remained untouched.
Le’ Sigh…
Life went on, and many other lines became scratched off. She was happy about this and uber grateful. Eventually the scars of missing Death Cab by just an inch began to heal and finally they retreated to hide in that secret place where the many missed Dave Matthews show scars had gone. {That is a truly terrible series’ of stories that she may or may not talk about one day.}
Moving on- One day Girl got really sick and all of the health experts in her village scratched their heads in confusion telling her, time and again, We just don’t know what could possibly be wrong with you, Girl! So, she was sad once again. As her strength grew weaker {er, shrankweaker???}, she missed weddings and parties, weekend trips and all sorts of fun adventures. It was in this delirious and debilitated state that Girl learned that one of her most favorite bands, of all time- {Death Cab!!!!} was once again planning a performance in her village. Hope blossomed within her, like a hydrangea bush and she optimistically looked forward to the day that she would sway with thousands of others during Soul Meets Body, and her life would be complete.
Alas, doctor’s bills from Girl’s mystery illness began to stack up. Prescriptions increased in cost and ran dry having no altering betterment on her health. Girl realized that it was a frivolous purchase to buy tickets to the glorious Death Cab event, and sadly she walked past the ticket booth and pushed them from her mind.
Messages came, via cellular technology, in a rare abundance asking Girl if she planned to go to Death Cab. It seemed everyone was going, and forgetting about the show seemed  an impossibility. Then, one day, Girl’s friend Kelly won tickets to see Death Cab. Due to life circumstances Kelly could not attend the event and offered her beloved, magical, prized tickets to Girl.
Girl cried with happiness. {HAPPINESS!!!} Girl read SEE DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE LIVE in her goal journal over and over and over again. Like a dream coming true- this reality once again dawned hope.
Her mystery illness, however, had other plans. The day before the show she fell ill with a fever and rested as much as possible. She was determined not to miss it. The night before the show left her ill and sleepless, but her strong will prevailed. She finally rose and began to busy herself in preparation on what was to be the magical event day. She felt great. As the hours passed however, and the show neared- she grew weaker and her fever raged higher. With the diagnosis (after months of no answers) of pneumonia came the crippling instructions telling her to rest and nothing else, {Cue crushing gameshow music}. No night air. No exertion. Repetitively her doctor assured her that Girl had no idea how truly sick she was.
No Death Cab. Girl was sure no one knew how truly sad she was.
Hoping to cuddle up somewhere warm and find the rest which eluded her- to balm her heartache- Girl was surprised to learn of Boy’s other plans.

No concert? No Death Cab? I have a great idea then! Why don’t I turn our entire house upside down? Move the lower floor of our humble cottage to the upper floor and switch everything around! Won’t that be adventurous? Won’t that be fun? !?!?!
Thinking Boy meant someday, she nodded to appease him. While typically adventures of the home interior type were Girl’s most adored adventures of all- these days finding the bottle of milk on a different shelf in the refrigerator seemed extreme enough.  Taken quickly by sleep, Girl woke twenty minutes later to boy disassembling nearly everything.
BIG Sigh, Cough, Cough…
As sad stories go, this is far from the saddest- but it’s still pretty sad all the same. If there were a moral it would probably be something like don’t hope, don’t dream– but that somehow makes it more horror story than sad tale so instead I’ll make it this: life is full of adventures- don’t pin your hope on just one because that isn’t fair to the fun waiting around the corner…
Oh yeah, and this: Your tv can always be moved back, if it looks awful, and he’ll have to do it since this was his idea in the first place!
The End… 

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7 thoughts on “A charmingly woeful tale…

  1. I contemplated it until about 40 minutes before the show. i tried to muster the strength, which is what it came down to- I didn't have any. getting from one room to the next is an overwhelming challenge and then I spiked a HIGH fever which left me really dizzy. All so unfortunate…

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