Ivy Grows

You're the One

I had listened to Greta Van Fleet before. Don't get me wrong. But it became a lot harder when I wasn't talking to them because then they became 'a band' rather than my friends and well...whatever Samuel was.

So, I really hadn't bothered to pay attention to any of the lyrics since I knew nothing about their lives and what influenced them. What inspired them. It hurt to be out in the dark like that.

See, where we've been

Won't you hold my hand and stay awhile

You're the one I want

You're the one I need

You're the one I had

This particular song was playing through my headphones as Sam watched closely for any form of reaction I'd give him. I held a serious gaze as to not give him any hints that I was internally freaking out. He said his proof was something you hear and then he runs inside to get headphones, and then plays one of their songs?

I'm trying not to get my hopes up that this song (or any) is about me but it's hard when he's looking at me like that. Like he feels every emotion written here in the song.

Eventually, the song came to an end and I slowly pulled the headphones from my ears, still keeping a stony gaze at nothing in particular.

"Well," he rushed out, his tongue jutting out to wet his lips, "what'd you think?"

"I've heard the song before, Sam. I loved it-," I started but he cut me off. Something I've noticed the Kiszka's do a lot of.

"No, for real this time. I want to know real thoughts. Not 'oh, I'm your friend so yeah it sounds great' sweet nothings. I want the truth because.." he let himself trail off at the end and my stomach lurched.

"Because why?" I look at him pointedly, wanting him to tell the truth for once.

"Because this may or may not be my proof..." he rambled, "but I want an honest opinion now."

I thought hard on my so called honest opinion. The truth was that I loved it. The truth was that it was the single-most romantic and powerful thing anyone had ever done for me. The truth was that I found it hard to wrestle with the idea of hearing that song and not marrying this man. That was the truth but I couldn't say all of that.

"It's good, Sam. Honestly. Cross my heart and hope to die.." I knew I could've been more specific but I'm just now grappling with the idea of Samuel being back in my life. If I brought up specific lyrics that may spark specific conversations that I doubt either of us are ready to face.

"Just good? That is the only physical proof I have of my infatuation and all you can say is it's good?" He scoffs, seemingly bewildered. I couldn't help but notice he'd now changed the L word to infatuation.

"It's fucking great. You're fucking great. The song is spectacular and I'm probably going to listen to it over and over for the foreseeable future. Is that what you wanted to hear?" I huffed, crossing my arms and avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah," he nodded while grinning. Without warning, he leaned over and pecked my cheek. A small, but meaningful gesture, "that's exactly what I wanted to hear."

"Well, there you go. There's your sweet nothings for the day.." I teased him and watched as he stood from the swing. His hand gently clasped my wrist and dragged me up.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, that same puppy dog look on his face, just a few years older.

"Yeah," I nod, "always." We walk side by side back up the house and just as he reaches for the doorknob, my hand reaches out to stop him.