1973...
Music like the kind I listen to is usually for the hopeless romantics. My waking hours, consumed by them indefinitely. If only I could wake in a club in 1973 by her side, I think I'd be more at ease, lo behold, she means the world to me and no one can change that. Only in my dreams, if any, do I get to see your beautiful eyes, lit brightly in the night sky, gazing up at me, warmly. Maybe one day, my love, I can hear you whisper how much you love me in my ears, ringing them to life in the morning. I could be your hero, just give me the chance to, I don't disappoint, that I can promise you. I'll wait till the day I can hold you, in all your subliminal beauty in my arms just for one night.
My bigger concern, my friend, the closest I've come to a practical distant blood relative, whom I thought I would trust me, doesn't in all actuality. Maybe I was a moron for not noticing it sooner, I'm not sure what she has to hide from me, I probably already know but I want to hear it from her. Maybe this is her chance to get her sweet revenge for something I've done. The only thing I asked for, honesty, came at a heavy price, to much to bear sometimes. As my mother would say, there is no logic in lying to anyone, not just me, I could care less if you lied to me, the need to know the truth outweighs the shock of the lie. I'm not sure why lies never moved me, nor does much of anything move me. I'm not sure why she did this, hiding things from me, she likes privacy, I don't buy it, she's hiding something, I know that much. It's fine though, I'll just wait here to the morning light shines anew and she can tell me.