| Current mood: |  giddy |
| Current music: | Losing You // New Amsterdams |
Good times compounded on good times
I never thought I could ever love him anymore than I already do. But last night, he proved me wrong.
We parted in the early morning, he to Detroit, myself to Atlanta. He was doing something with the gay pride festival; I had my first show with the Beck tour. After our set, I headed right back for the hotel because it'd been a long day - 6AM flight to be in Atlanta by 8, the regular pitstops on the way, phone interview, sound check, the actual show...
I almost always stick around to watch the main act, even longer after to meet with kids who came out. But I just wasn't doing that tonight. I was sitting on the bed, lazily strumming my guitar. The TV was on, but nothing was on to keep my interest, and try as I might, I just couldn't get to sleep.
Then there's a knock at the door. The guys all have a key to room, knock once before stepping in, and Rich always calls to tell me he's dropping by. So, needless to say, I was a little surprised. I walked to the door and opened it and there he was. He looked even more exhausted than I felt, but his smile was so alive. I was dumbfounded. Absolutely dumbfounded. He was in Detroit, not Altanta, not standing right outside my room with a duffel bag over his shoulder, and his smile, bright and beautiful, and those eyes on mine.
He's putting everything off for me. To be with me. His entire solo career...he's putting it on the backburners just so we can be together. The reasonable part of me doesn't want him to do this, put his future on hold just so I don't have to be alone at night, but that part of me that needs him, that craves him, that never wants him to be more than two inches away from me, is excited. Elated. He's here for me; I'm the most important part of his life.
And that makes me feel good.
I just hope he doesn't regret it.
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