Sparkatale

I fell in love with a musician,

So I guess that it only makes sense,

The sound of your guitar echoes in my head,

Vibrations stirring up memories both good and bad.

The familiar opening to an 80s song,

A song that has always made me laugh,

Has since become unofficially ours,

Speaking of all the good times we had,

Of late nights car rides to nowhere,

Talking about bad movies and good television,

Of chocolate milkshakes and French fries,

After wandering around town for hours,

Of stolen moments on your parents' couch,

*And in empty dorm rooms.

Memories that I will always treasure,

And will always remember with a smile.

The chords of your grandfather's favorite song,

A hauntingly beautiful melody,

That I hope never to hear again,

For it is a painful reminder,

Of late night phone calls and broken hearts,

Wishing for a sign that it would be okay,

Of desperate pleas and panic attacks,

Where all I could do was hold your hand,

Of razor blades and pills,

Terrified that any moment might be the last.

These days are forever seared in my mind,

With the notes of that one song,

The soundtrack to our sorrow.

You were surprised when I said,

I had fallen in love with a song meant to be sad.

But it holds too many happy memories for me,

Of listening to it for the first time,

On our way to the movies with my sister,

Of shouting out the lyrics at a concert,

Surrounded by strangers that had become family,

Of you and me singing it at three in the morning,

Both so fucking tired, and yet, so fucking happy,

It was a song that you played on your guitar,

But it became more than just chords and lyrics,

It became the reason why,

I fell in love with music. 

You played a song for me once,

That later became your apology song,

So now every time I listen to it,

I think of the first time you played it for me,

And remember why it was so important,

And then I remember why, too,

You are so important to me,

And I forgive you.

Late afternoons in your dorm,

With you playing the guitar,

And my singing along,

Never fail to make my day,

For they always end,

With a hug and sometimes more,

Reminding me of the fact,

That I am not alone,

And that you are there.

When I am sad,

You play one of your favorite songs,

And sing it in a soft voice,

You promise that everything will be okay,

And I believe you.

Your music has changed my life,

In ways you cannot expect.

And I want to say thank you,

But you will just brush me off.

Because you told me once never to trust a man,

Who plays guitar,

And since you play the guitar,

I should not trust you.

And while I know now what you meant,

I also know that you are never more honest with me,

Then when you are playing your guitar.

So to answer that question,

You posed to me once long ago,

As to why I fell for a guy who played the guitar,

I say to you this:

Life is a movie,

And no movie is complete,

Without its soundtrack.

And while you may be,

Just a small part in my life's soundtrack,

You are one of the best.

So while I can no longer listen to some songs,

Because of the memories they hold,

I listen to others with a stupid smile on my face,

Glad for the stories we created together,

Composed by the strings beneath your fingers,

And etched forever into my mind.