Your Songwriter

Dear woman,

That is sort of a nondescript way of addressing you now isn't it. I could be far more direct and make it clear to all who read this exactly who it is I am speaking to, because I am most certainly speaking.

You may be reading these words but I know you inside out and even after all of this time I know that when you read my words you hear my voice. You hear my voice and feel my presence and it makes you feel warm, loved and confused.

The logic and reason with which you want to view the world won't work here. I know because I ask for them to do so too. I look at math and science and search for something that makes sense of this crazy confusion. There are no theorems or proofs to apply. Newton can't explain it and Faraday can't diagram it.

But I know that you are the song of my heart and that once you said I was the love of your life. And I know that the song of my heart still remembers the love of her life in ways that cannot be broken or forgotten. It is kind of infuriating, is it not.

I remember the day you told me that it was a tragedy that we couldn't be together. I told you that you were wrong and you were silent. You didn't believe me because you didn't want to. You told me that I only hear what I want to hear.

And what I hear is your heart calling to mine. What I hear is our soul crying because neither one of us is completely fulfilled or experiencing the sort of joy that we know we can experience. We know because we have been there and we can be there again.

I am hard where you are soft and soft where you are hard. You make me feel things that sometimes I don't want to feel. So I find the dark places and remember the pain. I poke the bear and anger it so that I can be angry with you. I push so that I can create the space and feel ok with the empty spot that you once filled.

And in the midst of it all I feel you passing by and I look up and out the window. I hear soft chimes and smell...you. I feel your hand in mine and your lips upon me and I feel like I am back in high school again. I can't get up to answer the question my teacher asked.

So I sit here and wonder what would happen if we were to be alone. I think back upon the moments and know that I can still make you feel the same things you felt before. Your body will respond to my touch, but that would mean opening your heart to mine.

And I sit here and wish that I knew how to write the music I hear in my heart every time I think of you. And I sit here and think about the girl who loved a boy who wanted to do nothing more than take care of her. And I sit here and wonder if my heart is right and if we'll get that moment together....again.

Because life is short and when you find someone who can do for you what we did for each other, well you do all that you can to tend to that garden. So I sit here and wonder what it will take to earn the opportunity to park my car in your garage again.

Should I be the boy who loved the girl or the man who told the woman that he wasn't going to take her crap anymore. Should I tell you that I love you still and ask for your hand or come out and say that only a stubborn fool would ignore the opportunity.

Doors open and doors close but I am not the kind of guy who is afraid to tear down a wall or climb over a fence.

We were more together than we are apart.