The musician, that's who.
I met the musician when I was almost twenty. God fucking damn he was gorgeous. I don't remember where my self esteem was at that time but I was friendly and it is easier to be friendly with someone you don't think you have a chance in hell of dating. I met him in a bar with my mom one night when I was playing designated driver. He was talking to me and I needed to be talked to. He was gorgeous and I needed the ego boost. He took me home that night and he kissed me. God damn he kissed me. That kiss that your read about where shit explodes in your head and you forget your name. That kiss, those kisses that make you want to kiss. It was doubly awesome because he was kissing me. And who the fuck was I?
The musician could sing. OMG he could sing and he wrote his own music. It was so good. He was good. He was good at writing, singing, talking, touching, kissing... the boy was good. I say boy, the man was ten years my senior. He was a temporary island for me, I used him. I used him for an escape from my reality. I would drive to his house unannounced and I would use his mind and his body and then I would drive home. He gave me that twinge of happiness and I was so grateful to have something to help me make it through the days.
I should clarify here that never, in all of my crap have I ever not gotten just enough motivation from my girls to make it through life. They are IT for me, they are my eternal love and happiness. But sometimes you need something else to help make your road a little less bumpy and he did that for me. He helped steer me back onto the road of want. He helped pull me from the ditch and brush me off and I am so grateful to him for that.
Our fling was shortlived, a few months maybe before he moved to Chicago. We would have never been more than we were and neither of us said anything more than thank you and good bye.
Back on track, near sanity and rationalism. That wall that was blocking the view of my future was finally knocked down. My goals, my life, my girls. I was ready to begin again. I was ready for my life to start new. I was ready but I wasn't sure how. Enter the man from New York.
~Kate
Labels: History Lesson
