He
asked me to sing him a song, again. Just like the other night when I sang this Raisa’s
“Could It Be Love” on the phone, with him listening at the other end of the
line. It was a daunting task, not because I couldn’t, well I could sing and to
be honest, I kind of thought I was actually pretty good, but I always found it extremely
embarrassing to show the ability publicly. And although singing to him was not
regarded as a public performance, since what we had here was only him as the
audience, still that very idea of singing on the phone was simply freaking me
out. I was neither a good entertainer nor a competent singer that way. It was always
me being shy and unconfident. I somewhat had got butterflies in my stomach for
no particular reason.
Still
and all, I managed to finish one refrain, of course with such a huge effort, not
to mention that heart beat-skipping moment, only for the sake of this very
person.
And
on that dull and not very enchanting afternoon, he did it again, asked me to
sing a song for him. I could have said no, a real no which meant that I was not singing no matter what, instead I
found myself being cheap. He didn’t really need to try hard, at all. After a
couple of Nos, Avril Lavigne’s “I
Love You” was the best I could come up with. I didn’t even know why I picked
the song, probably because I was so madly in love or merely because of the lyrics
which best described how I felt. It was just there, came out of nowhere. As a
matter of fact, my mind kept chanting it during that phone talk. So much for
awkwardness. So I sang him, I Love You,
Avril Lavigne.
“You’re so beautiful
But that’s not why I
love you
I’m not sure you know
That the reason I love
you
Is you being you, just
you
Yeah, the reason I love
you
Is all that we’ve been through
And that’s why I love
you”
To
my surprise, it was bloody easy. It felt exactly like those hundreds regular bathroom
singings of mine. Thus, it was something I’d like to call a huge
accomplishment. Noble, even. Prob`bly that’s why a couple of seconds after we hung up, I was
stunned at how extroverted I was turning. I was not the person I had always been.
Never before I managed to deal with awkwardness this quick and easy. I had always
been the introverted, the dignified, the complicated, the unalive, the
inanimate, and after all, a prude. But when he was around, I was someone else. Then
I tried to figure things out, he was indeed one of a kind. There was seriously something
about him. Something that peculiarly kept me going, that made things ridiculously easier
and even crazier.
If we have hard times
working things out with someone, no matter how much we think we like him, it’s
not love. Love is supposed to be easy.
This
I swear is true- in my case, at the very least. And this also how he is making me feel all the time. When life offers us a simplicity far beyond any of our expectations, it's not reasonable to wind things. When there is someone, with all his sweetness and charm, knocking unremittingly on our doors, it is foolish to hide behind the curtain. Love has always been easy. It is never meant to be complicated or twisted. Love should not put
someone in a difficult situation whatsoever. Love inevitably works things out.
It just fits in conveniently. And love will handle things with ease.
So,
how should I define this thing between me and him?
It’s
those phone talks with him at the other end of the line, making fun and joking
around. It’s those intimate conversations with me talking continuously and him
constantly and patiently listening. It’s those silly short text messages ended
with an “I Love You” sent from our phones. It’s that very romantic night when
he played the guitar and sang out aloud for me. It’s that embarrassing moment
when I nervously had to sing that Raisa’s song for him. Finally, love was that
Avril Lavigne’s “I Love You” which I was listening to while writing this.
Love is easy.
Love is easy.