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Friday June 25, 04
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07:51 AM - I could be dreaming.
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I heard a song the other day that was once the foundation of my true romantic ideals:"If You Were Here" by the Thompson Twins on repeat, tinny through the sound of my computer speakers.
My thoughts, of course, turned to him. I wanted to walk outside to see if he was waiting for me there by his red Porsche 944. Maybe he would be? Maybe he tracked me down?
Maybe he misses me and our conversations as much as I miss him and his laugh? Maybe maybe maybe.
The song -- it's all so passionate, the swirling sound of the organ, the haunting near whispery voices. It's as if a phantom ghost hand reaches out from my monitor, curls its grey smoke fingers into my chest and squeezes my heart just ever so slightly. Enough to make my breath catch a little in my throat.
Was he waiting for me? Was he my Jake Ryan coming back to kiss me softly and sweetly over a birthday cake two months early?
It didn't occur to me, until today, to look at the lyrics of the song.
I think the answer is quite clear:
If you were here, I could deceive you. And, if you were here, you would believe. But, would you suspect my emotion wandering, yeah? Do not want a part of this anymore. (So I'll move to California, lie to you and break your heart)(that part's in there in your version, isn't it? -ed)The rain water drips through a crack in the ceiling and I'll have to spend my time on repair. But just like the rain, I'll always be falling, only to rise and fall again.
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