It’s November again, another anniversary passing.
left on the table
|Peace, Love, and Kill Western|
We dated for awhile. I was too immature for a serious relationship, yet our friendship lingered. Through all my broken relationships there was always you, your guitar and rock concerts.
mountains and valleys
strangers, music and guitars
and always you
Your proposal was bitter sweet. You came early in the evening and played with the boys. You returned later with your guitar. I was wrapped in blankets to keep warm and you kept singing love songs. Finally feigning a headache, I went to the car in search of Tylenol. I sat there and a mountain of tears flowed. We’d been dating about five years and had talk about marriage. School was beginning and with our teaching schedules, I knew we would not mention it again until summer. I dried my tears and returned inside. You were packing your guitar. How my heart broke. Standing in the door way you said, “How would you like to attend a wedding?” My answer a flippant “Well that depends on who’s wedding.” I honestly did not know this was a proposal.
Since then we’ve climbed many of life's mountains together. And sometimes you still pick up your guitar and sing me love songs.
the mountain's song