Musical Doubts

I gather all the crumpled up pages he had strewn all over the floor. It was my turn to clean the apartment today and like most days, majority of the trash came from his room. Sometimes I wonder if he has a personal grudge against me. He never talks to me, always has a messy room for me to clean and never makes conversation. Like, come on! He’s my brother’s girl friend’s brother. Socialize!

But then there are times when he makes me feel so guilty about ever thinking about him like that. Whenever he buys takeout, he brings enough for me too. He does his chores to a T and somehow he makes my room look better than it actually is. Not to mention those occasional nods he gives me across the hall way. Sigh. I need to stop daydreaming about him and get back to what I was doing.

So I collect the wasted pages and put them in the trash can, but one bounces out and lands on the floor. It’s half opened and I read some of the words, just enough to pique my interest. I hate going through someone’s private things but I can’t help it this time. I pick it up and open it quickly. They’re lyrics and guitar chords. They read-

 

She sits there with her blue guitar,

Her legs crossed & her hair falling nicely apart,

And her big big blue eyes brings life back to my Earth.

 

I want to touch those lips of hers,

No more silence, maybe just the two of us,

Make her feel right in our home of ours pearls.

 

My eyes feasts from the top of her head,

And my soul nourishes till the tips of her feet,

Her single word resonates with my heart beat.

 

But…I own a blue guitar. And I always sit cross legged on my bed. And I never comb my hair when I’m at home and I own blue eyes…Can he really be writing about me? Or is there another girl in his life with the same description? Or is this just not about anyone in particular? Just another crazy coincidence, maybe? But the important question is,

Do I want it to be about some one else?

 

I  pick up the crumpled pages with such ferocity and read them one by one. All of them…ALL OF THEM were written about the same girl. Each verse, each chorus is about how much he’s incapable of letting the girl know how much he loves her.

 

I hope she reads the clues,

I let fall on the floor.

 

At this point, I hear the front door unlocking. He finds his way to his room and sees me holding the piece of paper. We hold each others terrified stares for a few moments, just before I ask him,”Is this about me?”

He nods slightly, not looking away. My cheeks blush.

“Do you like me?” My words sounding hollow to my own ears.

He nods a little bit more reluctantly. He looks at my bare feet and they  tingle. He looks at my waist and I feel a rumble. His eyes sweep my neck and I feel him kiss it slightly. His eyes finally search mine, and I feel tears forming.

We take a heart beat’s second before we launch ourselves into each others arms and let our lips meet.

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