The other day’s raging storm has afforded me to spend its entirety at home. It has also provided me a pensive feeling of sorts, which I usually acknowledge, but chosen to discard since I had deadlines to beat.
In the midst of lay-outing and putting in data for the catalog I am working on, a friend sent me a message asking what our song was. Initially, I was drawn to the Stars’ Heart album which was playing on loop since god-knows-when-time I started working that day. But no, not a single record seemed relevant to us. My phone signaled an arrival of another message. It was my friend again, with some cheesy line of a song she deemed perfect for her and her boyfriend of four years.
“Tides they turn and hearts disfigure but that’s no concern, we’re wounded together… All the wait was so worth it.”
So it said. We are in no way synonymous to that. Not even a tiny portion, I guess.
But I am not in a hurry looking for that perfect song. All I have now is words, hundreds or even millions of them, and a playlist of more than a thousand songs.
“I know it’s not much, but it’s the best I can do. My gift is my song, and this one’s for you.”
Our young hearts and yet short history can offer one each day. You can even play a different song with your guitar every night. Let’s make a random mixtape of our songs for now – we shall settle for whatever fits the moment.
No need to worry, no need to hurry, because one day we shall just find our hearts singing to that one song over and over again.