You and I

Chapter 20: Can you feel the pain drip, drip down like rain?

Chapter 20: Can you feel the pain drip, drip down like rain?

December 26, 2018
Andalusia, Spain

Chapter title lyrics from "You and I" by Tarja.

"How is it that we always end up calling each other the day after Christmas?" Sharon asked on the other end of the phone.

Tarja smiled as she stared down into her fresh, steaming cup of coffee. She stood on her deck, overlooking the pool and the hills beyond that were graced with the early morning sunlight. "I like to think it's kind of our tradition."

"Our tradition. I like that. You sound tired, Tari."

"I am," she admitted, taking a sip of coffee. "We hosted like 20 people yesterday, and I was cooking non-stop for the three days before Christmas."

"Same here," Sharon groaned. "Unless someone else feels like doing the cooking, we're getting takeout all this week."

The two women laughed, but Tarja knew her exhaustion ran deeper than cooking, cleaning, and entertaining guests. It was bone-deep. Part of it was from touring—the constant traveling always wore her out. But mostly, it was from keeping her and Sharon a secret and the endless stress and sadness that came with imagining what the future might hold for them.

"How have you been?" Tarja asked once their laughter had subsided.

There was a beat of silence.

"Okay," Sharon said, exhaling on the word. "I had been doing a little better—I mean, some days were still really painful, but I was starting to have more good days. But Christmas was ... Christmas was hard."

"Yeah," Tarja said quietly. "I can imagine."

"My mom was just really sad, and it made me sad too. It was nice to be with everyone, and we talked about him and shared old memories, but it was bittersweet."

"I know. I understand that feeling. But going through memories together? That's the best healing."

"Yeah," Sharon whispered.

They were silent for another moment before Sharon asked, "What about you? How have you been?"

"I'm just tired," Tarja said simply, unable to find the words to describe her emotions further. "Even before Christmas, I was tired. And I'm stressed. If you have any secrets to how you overcame your writer's block, I would love to know, because now I'm the one who has it."

"For your new album?"

"Yeah. The music was easy to write. That's all done, I did it last year in between touring. It's the lyrics I can't do. I keep listening to the recordings I took of the music and playing the parts on piano, trying to come up with anything, just something to start with, but I can't think of a single word. I've gone for walks, I've gone for runs, and I've sat in silence. Nothing comes."

"Why don't you stop worrying about the music? Just try to write words that feel right to you, and you can fit them into the melodies later."

"But I don't even know where to start," Tarja said, dragging her hand across her face. "I just feel empty. Like maybe I have nothing left to say."