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If anyone tells you a song is important to them, you should turn it up loud, close your eyes, and really listen. Because at the end, you will know that person so much better. —Unknown
Because music is the heart’s greatest librarian. A few notes had the ability to transport me back in time, and to the most painful of places. Take any song from the Rolodex of your life, and you can pin it to a memory. It translates, resonates, and there it will remain. And no matter how many of those Rolodex cards you want to rip out and burn like an old phone number to make room for new ones, those songs remain and threaten to repeat.
I used to think men were experts at forgetting about the past and moving on, but I was finally old enough to know better. Their memories were just as vivid, just as painful. They were just better at letting go.
Love doesn’t die, even when you stop feeding it. There is no expiration date on the ache of missing someone you shared your heart, life, and body with.
“You really loved her,” I said as I watched him trace the steering wheel with his finger, touching every groove. “There was love. There were a lot of things.” “And then?” “We crashed.”
“Boo, listen. You can’t go beating up everyone that pisses you off. Use your words, I promise you they are much better weapons. But be careful with them because bruises heal.”
I think I’m falling in love with the king of nothing.
“You’re the band nerd who grew up to be a rock star. This is just the in between.” I got a smirk. “And who are you?” “I’m the woman who’s going to watch it happen. I’m the woman with a huge I told you so on the edge of her tongue.”
“Safe is an illusion, Stella,” he said as he turned on the radio.
“My mother said when you’re happy you should dance! And when you’re pissed you should dance! And when you drink too much tequila you should dance . . . while you cry.”
That’s the thing about intimacy and truly knowing the person you’re with. They always know when something’s off, no matter how casually you try to sweep your unease away. They know. It’s their job, because in the song of your life, they are the ones listening. It’s when they stop that you need to worry. He’d listened to mine. He knew when a beat was missing, or a note was forgotten. He’d memorized my song, and I was his favorite.
“Don’t throw those fucking signals at me, Stella, or you’re going to find yourself on the right side of my bed.” “Why the right?” “Because I sleep on the left,” he said as he leaned in. “And you’ll sleep on the right. Every man needs a right girl.”
“I want to split a paper with you over breakfast. I want to find out what your favorite movie is. I want to know everything about you, and despite my best efforts, you’ve given me less than shit. I want you in a million different ways, but when you look at me like that, all I can think of is one.”
“Always ask for more of a good thing, Stella. Never know when you’ll have it again.”
“Shhhh,” he said as he ran his finger through my hair. “Anticipation, Stella, I’m game. I’ve already been waiting for months. What’s a few more? But we’re not stopping this.” He linked our hands together. “Because I’ll be damned if I let you forget that I’m waiting. I want you to get used to these hands, these arms, this lap. We’ll be around a while. If it happens, it will happen naturally, and we’ll make our own story. If it doesn’t, I’ve got you with me now, and I’m good with that.”
“More. You told me to ask. More. Right now.” His eyes pooled as he grinned down at me, finger dipping low while I recovered my breath.
“I’ll see you, Grenade,” he whispered before he closed it behind him. I went after him and stopped him on the sidewalk. “I’ll be the one to watch it happen,” I shouted at his back. Slowly, he turned to face me, his eyes closed with the memory of my words, his lips twisted. “Say it.” I smiled through my free-falling tears. “I told you so.”
“Miss Emerson, I’d like to see you in my office,” Nate sounded through my newly installed phone in my newly gifted office. I pushed his extension as I searched my notes on my laptop. “Nate, everyone here knows we have sex on the regular. You can call me Stella,” I said with a tone that matched his. “Miss Emerson, I have Roger Morris in my office for a meeting,” Nate snapped as laughter echoed out beside him.
“But something’s missing,” he said, forcing me to look his way. “You wonder what it would be like if we were together, if we had gone further. You still want the fairytale, but it’s mine to give you, and I can’t give it to you if you’re with the wrong fucking prince.”
“To match his,” he retorted confidently. “Don’t marry him, Stella. You don’t belong to him. I scare you and that’s good. Do it scared, remember? You were always so quick to believe in me without reason. I’ll give you as many as you need. I’m right here, Stella.”
“I know,” he said regretfully, “and I’m sorry you went through that. Stella,” he said in a breathy whisper, “you thought you weren’t enough, but that was just it. You were enough to make me want to try to figure it out. You were enough to make me want to get better, feel better, and eventually want more. You saved every part of me. The parts I thought were empty, you filled up. The parts I thought were lost, you brought them back to me.”
Jaw shaking, eyes flooded, I took a step forward, and then another, and then another as Reid’s edgy voice broke over the mic, raw and full of emotion. In a sea full of strangers, Reid sang to me. My favorite song, covered by his favorite band, the Deftones. “Drive”.
“Fine,” she sighed. “Your fancy master’s degree came in the mail this morning. I framed it in Hello Kitty.”
“You traded in dudes for donuts,” she said
“Reid?” “Yes, Grenade?” It was another blow to the chest, but I could still feel his smile. “Tell me that life magically starts to happen.” “One minute past desperation, baby. I promise. I’m living proof. Believe me, Stella.”
He wiped the tears away as I stared up at him. “How did you know I was almost home?” “The way I’ve always known when you’re close,” he said, delving deep into my mouth and leaving me breathless. He pulled away after a lingering peck on my lips. “I felt it.” He watched my face closely.
You can’t put a price on your dreams, and I learned over the years that sometimes dreams have a way of paying for themselves.
