thinking of you. missing you. loving you.
continuing on the musical riff of today….i. have. no. words.
beautiful goodbye by richard marx
in the middle of writing three separate posts as follow-up to comments on ms. vincent, thewomaninvisible and foreverdreamingof love’s respective blogs i heard richard marx’s interview on a local radio station out this way and i admit hearing him talk not about his new album but about his process, where he is in his life and decisions he’s made got me thinking. to be clear, the station he was on doesn’t typically play his music and they were smart enough to do their research on him and come away with questions that revealed a lot about what he’s been up to (way more than i ever would have known re: writing, producing, etc.).
curious, i went to listen to some of the songs on his new album and after the first song i bought it outright. i can’t and won’t speak to any one’s personal music choices etc but i will say that it resonates for me. deeply. specifically tracks:
- whatever we started
- beautiful goodbye
i found the official you-tube video for whatever we started.
i looked up and suddenly he was here. right in front of me. in. real. life. and yet again, as my breath caught in my throat and i look into his cerulean blue eyes i found myself at a loss for words.
still. even now. every first time. and when he smiles and the blush reaches his eyes as they darken with lust. my heart beats faster and the moisture pools in my panties.
after we were led to the suite by the proprietor and the door shut behind him. i launched myself at him. standing on my tip toes to wrap my arms around his neck as he leans down and engulfs me in his arms. holding me still against him, knowing that in the moment, right then and there, things would be alright.
and then there was that moment. that nanosecond just before our lips meet. again. for the first time. after months apart. the three thousand + miles that separate us, among other things, fades as his hands; strong, firm yet gentle become urgent against my skin and my body responds without hesitation.
“was our last meeting the beach you were referring to in your recent tumblr post?” he wrote
“no. it was the time before that. in a place we were both anonymous.” I replied
“there are other beaches” he merely taps out
my heart fills and my eyes brim at the light those four words represent. the beacon in the safe harbor.
given the way things need to be and the new normal of limited virtual contact, the additional distance and separator of time zones pierces my heart more than ever before. I miss your touch. yes, of course the actual physical touch but more importantly the touch of our conversations and human kindness in the mutual admiration society we have. the voicemails of encouragement before and after a chemo treatment, the funny limerick left in my mailbox or the good night wish sent as a single note in the ether. that’s the touch I miss the most.