*click*

=<i>Curtain.</i>

<h4>Epilogue</h4>
It was mostly frills and icing,
Plastic garnishes on a cake.
Though then I had found it pleasing,
It strikes me now as rather fake.

Perhaps I'd desired romance grand
Or my own tragic tale of love.
From the moment he held my hand,
I'd casted him as my beloved.

But substance was a rarity
In that strange summer dream of mine.
I'd written out Reality,
And gave Illusion every line.

And we both were willing players
In this opera I'd created.
Though our moods grew ever greyer,
We both claimed to be elated.

The truth was so very different
From what we were then portraying.
I knew he felt ambivalent;
I knew not what I was saying.

Huge, bright sparkling cerulean eyes,
That had gazed at me so sweetly,
Were little more than his disguise
To hide his confusion neatly.

And the kisses he had plied me,
While enhancing the sense of awe,
Were just his way to quiet me
And my impending distaste thaw.

In the end, it was only mist,
A gossamer dream of passion.
But while it merely was a tryst,
I can't deny that it was fun.

<h4>A Cynical Summary</h4>
If he had only lived next door,
I might have just deemed him a pretty bore.
But since he'd hailed from 'cross the sea,
He'd seemed such an exciting novelty.

<h4>A Fair Summary</h4>
Once, I was rather fond of him;
That much I can't deny.
To say I was in love with him?
That may not be a lie.

But love is such a tricky fiend;
I know that much is true.
What may have truly ardent seemed
Might have been viewpoint skewed.