They are exciting. And sometimes there's music and lots of people and flags waving, and hours and hours of buildup. And then the sky lights up and a split second later comes a thundering noise loud enough to absolutely stop someone's heart, and cheers and whistles from the audience. And they're sort of romantic, I suppose. People like watching them and cuddling.
But the thing about fireworks is the buildup, really. They start big and beautiful and sparkly and shocking, and they continue on and the display gets bigger and sparklier. Meanwhile the audience turns to one another and says "just wait, it's going to get even better." And another explosion fills the sky and there's applause. And they say it again. "It's going to get even better."
And eventually, it doesn't. Eventually it stops. And you're left with this feeling, expectation and anticipation that remain unfulfilled. And all that's left is smoke in the air and squiggly lines fade into a gray mass and slowly integrate into the city smog that we were, for a moment at least, able to ignore.
All of a sudden red and white and blue don't match anymore. All of a sudden the spectacle is over and you're left feeling empty, and all you can do is walk away and act as if what you've been so excited about all this time didn't turn out to be an utter disappointment.
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