Yesterday evening you texted me to tell me you began following me on Twitter. You seem so out of place in social media, and I mean that in the most complimentary way possible. The fact that you do not choose to take part in Facebook, and that you are, as the song goes, an “old soul”, makes you seem like this fish out of water on Twitter. I can’t decide if it’s cute or weird. Maybe a little of both. You also mentioned that you enjoyed the rain Thursday. I texted back that I had been worried about you, because I knew you were driving in the rain all afternoon and evening for work, and it concerned me. You answered, “Thanks for worrying, you are wonderful”. I know what I want those words to mean. But I think I’d better not read too much into them, and just let them be, along with this entire situation.
It was a lovely conversation (albeit completely via text). We talked about me teaching you to do that duet with me, and even discussed preparing a song for the holidays. Holidays. I wonder what they will bring this year. That is such a weird time of year for emotions. I’m going to put out into the universe what is on my mind at this very moment. My wish is that I hope you explore the things you need to explore and find that it is me you wish to be with, that it is me you love. That we will come together for the holidays and fall in love together. That you will choose to try this with me.
Ironically, the first song you want to work on with me is your favorite old song “Let’s Do It, Let’s Fall In Love” by Cole Porter. Perfect choice for an “old soul”, accounting for the fact that it was written 57 years before you were born. What will it be like teaching you this song? What will it be like practicing it with you, coming up with an arrangement we can do as a duet? Will the magic in the words and music come off the page and become our “reality”? Will you really sit at the piano with me as we sing this song into each other’s eyes and not feel what I am feeling? Will it be some kind of torture for me if you don’t? Ugh. Clearly, I’m interested in finding out the answers to these questions. Clearly I want this to play out and see what happens. Do you? I couldn’t know what you’re thinking. Are you looking for that feeling you lost? Are you also hoping it will come back in the magic of a Cole Porter song? Could that possibly be part of your motivation to put us together in this situation? Or am I projecting all of this and hoping that’s what you’re thinking? After all, although this duet was an idea we both came up with together, and that you have spoken of many times, in this past conversation I was the one that reminded you about it. So is it me that wants this situation to happen? Or is it both of us? More questions. No answers.
Obviously I’m intrigued, I’m interested, I’m “taken in” even. Part of me wants to assert to myself at least the acknowledgement that this could be a path to more disappointment and heartbreak. That maybe it is nothing more than two “friends” doing something together. That I’m just hoping for more. And then another part of me wants to believe in it. Believe in you. Believe in us. And what we can be. Because even you’ve acknowledged that at times you want me to hold you, and that you have more than just “friend” feelings for me, despite the fact that you aren’t yet sure what you want completely. Clearly the part of me that wants to believe is winning, as I have every intention of working on this song with you. This would seem to suggest I’m an optimist. I find this amusing since I think of myself as a pessimist sometimes, but my actions betray that. Maybe the more correct word is “fool”. I hope not. The bottom line is, it will probably be a lot of fun regardless of the outcome, so I’m not doing it to get a result. Or am I? I’m not sure I’m being entirely honest there. Suffice it to say that I’m aware nothing may come of it other than the duet itself, and some fun times teaching and rehearsing. And I still want to do it. But of course I’m hoping you’ll sit with me at the piano and in the fun, in the mood, in the romance of the whole thing, you’ll become as swept away by it all as I will be. So there you have it. I’m a big boy. I can make decisions. I’m choosing this. Here I go.