Blogophilia Week 20.7 Topic: A Cascade of Possibilities
(Hard, 2 points) Include a lyric from a song by Air Supply
(Easy, 1 point) Use the word "carousel"
Disclaimer: If you know me well, you know I have a tendency to bounce from one extreme to the other when it comes to love - I'm either soaking in warm fuzzy feelings or bitterness. Somewhere in the middle is just me doing me - just here, no thoughts on the topic whatsoever. But, when I'm not "just here," I'm apparently always going to be a closet hopeless romantic. Or, not so closet, now.
Sometimes this is my greatest flaw. Other times, it's my peace of mind. Tonight, as it typically has been many times in the past, it's a crazy mixture of both. So, whether this has therapeutic or entertainment purposes, or both, I don't know, but here it goes.
As restricted pops up on the phone, she answers, waiting patiently to hear something, anything on the other end. He could have remained silent, each phone call, and she would know instantly that it was him. To this day, the phone could ring restricted, followed by silence, and she would be at peace knowing he was okay. Fortunately, she could still smile, knowing the last time the phone rang, many years ago, was his voice:
"I finally found the nerve to say, I'm gonna make a change in my life, starting here today. I surrender all my love, I never thought I could. I'm giving all my love away, and there's only one reason that I would, and baby, it's you...."
He sang to her. Not in the best voice, but still, he sang. From day one to the end, he sang. Who was she kidding. He could have barked out the words to each song, and they would have still sounded better than the original artist.
Round and round, like a carousel, they went. One minute, he was belting out lyrics in her ear, writing sweet love letters, and talking about the cascade of possibilities that was their future together. The next, he had her in tears, feeling like her life was over.
But, she loved him. She was in love with him. And each time she looked into his eyes, everything started fresh. Everything was new again.
Every moment, every memory, can be found within various music for many different reasons. The music was theirs. From the first, "Love you Like I Did" by 112 to the last "My First, My Last, My Everything" by Barry White. This is their story.
And every now and then, even though there story has long been over, thoughts will creep back in that have her singing:
"Here I am playing with those memories again, and just when I thought time had set me free, those thoughts of you keep taunting me."