His heart ran slow motion.

What should remain when we turn over the page of another decade, are the fresh lines in our faces, the happiness which drew wrinkles in our skin. Beauty never really fades, it just looks different when we age.

The man sitting near the station hall entrance had many lines in his face, but they were the wrong ones. They were too deep, too blunt. Sadness had battled a war upon his skin. His eyes like cripple veterans, spotting betrayal behind every face passing by.

It’s not easy when no one remembers who you once were.

He lowers his head, trying to erase every “what if…?” from his mind.

“What if I was still famous?”


“What’s if I hadn’t started drinking?”


“What if I had fallen in love?”

Perhaps he had. He just hadn’t understood what it meant at the time.

He briefly touched his hat with one hand, a meaningless gesture, fighting this burdensome room which was too big to find answers in. No matter how much he tried to fight it, sadness was reloading its guns.

When did this happen? It feels like it was only yesterday everybody knew his name, wanted to touch his hand, loved the sound of his voice. Now the star had faded into a black hole. This wasn’t his place to be, the anonymity clinging to his overcoat.

He knew exactly how it happened. The empty bottles his accomplices. The glamorous life was just a synonym for his addiction. Fame was a fantasy he couldn’t keep running from. If you needed alcohol and egoism to function, if you forgot your lines and misbehaved in front of the cameras, if you forget the true meaning of what you were doing, you knew you had it coming.

His eyes wandered past a girl about his age. She looked so young compared to him. He felt and perhaps looked, like an old man.

It felt rough recalling how many women had promised him they loved him and would love him always. They were nowhere to be seen. They had only loved the thought of him.

Slowly, he got up from his seat. Some heads turned, there was still something delicately elegant about him. You could sense that spark deep inside of him and you wanted to make sure not to miss it. Then you’d quickly look away as the soldiers in his eyes begged you for recognition.

Here he was, looking for something that was long gone. The future ahead of him consisting of spending the night all alone, once again. No knocks on the door. No premieres. No fancy parties.

No love.

He felt the urge to clamp someone’s arm, ask what it meant to love. It would feel so good to stomp his feet, to scream, to be like a toddler knowing nothing about the world and waiting to be guided.

Paralysed by the confusion battering against the inside of his skull, he leaned against one of the thick walls and tried to focus on the outer world, just to cut off the inner one.

He saw a woman rushing into the arms of a man.

She had tears in her lovely, blue eyes and no worries in her smile. It struck him deeply, this honest portrayal of having missed someone. That moment of pure thankfulness and disbelief. Finally together again.

His heart ran slow motion. This little picture right in front of his eyes was the perception of his deepest longing, his deepest need. To be missed, to be wanted, to be loved beyond anything.

Maybe that’s what he really needed. Not the crowd but the individual. Not the distance but the closeness. Not this longing to go back to days where he was admired for his career. This moment in his life shouldn’t necessarily be filled with grief. Perhaps life had been kind to him. This could be a second chance.

“What if I fall in love?” he whispered to himself as he straightened his figure, rearranging his hat and coat.

A sober smile crept past his lips and although no one might have noticed it, he sure felt it. From now on, that was the only thing that mattered.

Not what the world, but what his heart had to say.

☆✿ ☆✿☆✿ ☆✿·٠•●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●✿✿.。.:* ☆:* ✿ *:☆*.:。.✿✿●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●•٠·✿


First of all…Happy newyear!It’s been a wonderful year and I’m sure a lot more enjoyable moments are coming our way. Thank you so much to you, my readers, for reading my pieces and showing your appreciation ♥ I love you all.

About this piece…I got inspired by watching Chaplin’s movie “Limelight”. I think it’s an exquisite movie…wonderful lines, soulful plot and just one of those movies that fills your heart with this warm, fuzzy feeling. I hope you enjoyed reading this. I somehow feel very connected to this theme.  ♥


8 thoughts on “His heart ran slow motion.

  1. Portraying what it’s like to be in love or almost in love is a tough thing to do. To add emotion to a portrayal is even harder and to make the character seem real is almost impossible. You did it once again and in a short time nonetheless. You are amazing. Don’t ever lose this fairytale believing heart of yours. ❤

  2. *wide grin on my face* did I mention I love you? ♥ Thank you so much. Well, writing is often an urge, it happends to me. So I sit down and start writing, I don’t really think about it. It creates the most realistic stories in my opinion because it’s like writing down a movie you just see inside your heard. Thanks once again foryour appreciation. Means so much to me I can’t even explain. ps. My heart will never change.

  3. Happy 2012 to all the peeps here! Froe you allready know but once more thank you for this one. I can’t believe there was a time when I didn’t followed your writing, because it’s truelly beautifull 🙂 X

  4. Hey my sweet friend,
    I’ve tried to sit down and read this a few times but kept getting distracted, what a coincidence that I finally had time this morning and there is a Chaplin marathon on tonight!
    While I was reading it I kept thinking about Buster and Charlie. How do I know you so well? 😉
    You make it so easy for me to visualize your stories with your descriptions. An amazing writer in the making? I believe so!

    Happy New Year!

    (I feel like I’m lying to you with my user name, so I’ll sign my real name)

    Susan 🙂

    • Hello my love, ooh thank you for taking the rime to read and comment, it truly means a lot to me. Bless you, you understand me ;D WhenI watched Limelight, I just HAD to write this down. My two silent men inspire me so much! Thank you for being so kind!It means a lot because not only do I love to write, I feel beyond grateful when someone else can enjoy reading it. Happy NY sweetheart!Make sure to have fun with the marathon, I just bought a huge Chaplin DVDbox,lol! Love, x (aww thanks for telling your name!)

  5. How can someone be to connected to the words that comes out of her head? How can someone write something so flawless? How can someone empty me on everything just to fill me up with the story of that man? How can someone make me love a man and feel so badly for him, even though he is not ever real? How can someone create something so genious?

    Well Froe, I don’t know. I guess I will never understand the enormous talent you are sitting on. How can you?

  6. Ooh sweetheart. I don’t know…that’s the beauty of it. I guess it’s not the words but the heart that forms the poetry. When your heart is writing the lines, things can feel very realistic. I hope I can fill you up with nothing but hope and love ❤

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