The One

I went to meet her family the other day, which was a surprise, seeing how she’s told me a countless number of times that she is an orphan. I’ve got an addiction I guess, and only certain people know about it.

I love it when she pulls the shades down and stops the moon from peeking its glaring eyes in upon us. She likes to wear dark make-up, which is pretty hot considering she has the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen, and that brighter than the sun gold cross she wears on her neck glistens ever so bright off her dark Italian skin.

Reminds me of the Seven Spanish Angel’s that Willie and Ray sang about in song years ago. You know that song? About a woman that loved her man so much that when he died in a gun battle against the old school South Federalalies, she picked up his gun, knowing that it was without bullets, just so the coppers would blast her down, so that she could go with her man to the promised land. Because she knew that she couldn’t live without him.

I hope that I make her feel the same way. She’s told me that she loves me. I know that I love her. But I can’t tell her. I’ve tried too, but each time the words just came out wrong. Perhaps I’ll tell her I love her in song? No. Did that for another years ago. New plan.

When I talk with her, I talk in riddles, unknowingly. When I answer, it comes out as a whisper. All the attention in the World isn’t enough for her. To her it is. But I need to give her more so I don’t fuck this up. The memories of yesterday keep getting jammed in my head and they scare me. I can’t take it anymore and I want them to leave. Memories of the things that I’ve done in the past to push the very few that I’ve loved away scamper into me at night. I hide under the blankets like a little boy afraid of the rain.

I gotta do the right thing. If it’s this or that, I don’t know. Holding her hand as she’s beside me, breathing the air from her lungs, looking at nothing in her eyes....nothing but the truth. I will hide in shadows no longer.

Nothing seems to brighten the dark and gloomy and wretched things I call my heart and soul any more than seeing her beautiful face, smiling, while she bounces about the floor with the happiness of a small child. We pretend that we’re alone. And her fingertips play the same song on the dance floor as I’m playing on the stage. She’s been hurt. I’ve been hurt. But I promise you, fuck, I promise her and I promise me, I will never have a reason to hurt her.

My heart feels like lightning, white lightning, burning brighter and hotter than anything else. I guess it’s about time to learn to live again. It’s about time to learn to love again.

But, in all the ways that she is like me, she’s not like me. And I don’t care. As long as she keeps coming with me, I don’t care what she’s done in the past. I’ll take her as is. I don’t mind and I don’t care what she was, as long as she doesn’t mind and she doesn’t care who and what I was in my past. And it seems that she doesn’t.

Maybe I was born to tell her "I Love You." And she, me. Maybe I was born in February of ‘78. And maybe I was born in May of ‘07, when I met her. In my mind, I’m still a little boy. She’s still a little girl. But I got a feeling that feels like the Devil is ripping a hole in me. The things I was ashamed of, I ain’t anymore. The things that I used to do, I don’t want to do anymore.

Sleeping naked, under the blanket of her soul, kissing her lips. I want her to pull me from the stage and take me home, before it’s too late. Just to drive me home. And let me fall asleep and wrap me in the blanket that is her soul.

Maybe she’s the angel I’ve been looking for? Could she be?

Held her in my arms as she slept, without makeup, and listened to her breathe. Watched her eye lids dance to the music that was playing in her dream. And even though she was dead to the world, her fingers still played. All musicians are the same. You can take the guitar away, but the music never leaves.

The alcohol dried in my veins. And as I stood in the early morning rain, smoking a cigarette, those cool, cleansing drops washed away my fears. I used to know what it all meant, this thing they call love. And I think that I’m starting to understand it again.