I once asked Tom why he had never written a song about me. I mean, his band had love songs. But they were more like break-up songs written by their bassist, Chris. They called him the revolving door of women, because they'd come, stay for a few dates, and disappear. But Chris was a sweet boy, truly, and I knew one day he would find someone.
Tom had given me a very simple reply, in his joking-plus-a-half-smile sort of way.
"Seems too cliche for us. So, it'd only be if you cheated on me. Or destroyed my truck for kicks." I laughed, loving the way he spoke. The perfect balance of honesty and humor.
"Well, maybe if you left me. I would write a ballad, bring in a pianist and maybe a cello." And there was that heart-breaking honesty.
"Tom, I don't think a ballad would fit your band's MO. It's not punk." He squeezed my hand.
"Wouldn't matter. If you left, the whole world wouldn't fit the MO."
I wish I had remembered that day, before I signed my letter of intent with a school over two thousand miles away.
"Lauralynn, you're leaving me." Tom's grey eyes looked like a restless, stormy ocean.
"Tom, I , I just..." I drop my gaze, unable to lok into his lovely eyes. Even without looking I could see them perfectly. Grey framed by thick, black eyelashes that made it look ike he wore make-up. I was leaving him. We knew better than to believe long distance could work. Hopelessness weighed heavy on us. We were only a foot apart, but it already felt like miles.
I could hear the piano, and the cello. Even so far up in the air, I could hear the song of Tom's heart breaking. Could he hear mine, as it shattered like glass? Of course he could. It would sound like violins and a slow, mournful trumpet solo. I had never understood pain like this, it was so purely emotional. Or was it? Or was that ache in my heart becoming something physical.
People have often said some feelings will never be describable by words, but music.
I'm sorry, Tom, I'm sorry you have to write a song.
YOU ARE READING
A Compilation of My Soul
RandomThe best way to describe this is just as the title says- a compilation of my soul. These are the short stories, the poems, the scenes never completed, the lessons I have discovered in me through the years. I believed it only right to share them with...
