HONESTLY

Frustration

I can't explain how awesome it felt to have a guitar in my hands again. I woke up that morning determined to have my fingers back on the chords. I reached across the comforter for the supplies Nate had so thoughtfully bought me. I sat with a pencil and fresh, new notebook trying to get into the right frame of mind while thinking about possible lyrics and a melody.

The process seemed promising as I wrote a few words down on the lined paper, tucking the pencil behind my ear when I was finished. I reverted back to some of my older songs, believing I would receive some inspiration from my completed work.

As I strummed a few chords, Nate walked into the bedroom wearing boxers and nothing else, holding a tray filled with breakfast.

"Hungry? Maybe this will inspire you," he said as he plopped the array of morning goodies on the bed next to me.

I stopped playing for a second as he joined me on the end of the bed.

"Don't stop because of me," he said supportively.

I shook my head, "You're not," I said as I placed the guitar down behind me.

"So...what have you come up with?" he curiously asked.

"I'm kicking around some ideas, nothing concrete yet," I said nonchalantly as I picked at a piece of crispy bacon off the tray.

"I've got some plans for later, but you work, then we can play," he grinned, flashing his dimple on cue.

"I don't have to do this now."

Nate shook his head and would not take, "No," for an answer. As he exited the room, I reached for the guitar again. I decided to experiment with a few different arrangements, but I was having serious writer's block. For all the events leading up to that moment, I would've thought I'd have a whole album written already, but I couldn't come up with a simple starting point.

After an hour, my notebook looked like a mess with words written down then crossed off. After getting nowhere, I dressed for the day, deciding on some loungewear, because where could we really venture out to? I placed the phone Nate had given me in my pocket and decided to take a break from my disastrous start of my third album.

I found Nate in the living room with his feet up on the coffee table, fully dressed, washed and smelling unbelievably good from his cologne.

"You showered?" I said surprised.

"I brought my stuff upstairs to your old bedroom so I wouldn't bother you," he said.

"My old bedroom?" I repeated.

"Well, it's a bedroom you used and now you're not using it anymore...so yeah," he said, laughing slightly.

I walked around the couch and plunked down next to him. I leaned up against his shoulder and placed my feet on the coffee table next to his.

"This is nice," I said, embracing the quiet and the lack of drama.

Nate stroked my hair, contemplating his words carefully.

"When everything is settled, you will be back doing what you do best," he said encouragingly.

I turned towards him and glanced up as self-doubt started to rear its ugly head.

"I don't know if what I do is the best," I said introspectively.

"You're still living through a mess in real time. Your world out there will calm down like this," he pointed around the empty room, "and when it does, you will be back making music."

"The music isn't coming naturally right now," I said shaking my head, "maybe, I'm just a two-album girl."

"Are you kidding me?" he questioned.