Crescendo

Hearing the distinct sounds of each guitar, I sit and observe with conviction. The passion for making such noise is splattered on both of their faces. So focused and intense, matching one vibration to the other. The crescendo of the guitar drowns out the words but just at the right moment. The imperfect rythm in each strum against the strings is exceptional and moves at a different pace than the tapping foot. No such music that is ink on paper is played here, only music from the soul and it captivates the energy in this room.

Mirage

The music and people around us were invisible, leaving us the only two people in the room. His hand was pressed gently on the small of my back. As our lips connected and our tongues intertwined, time stood still. 

I am enamored by an experience. As I start to wake up from what seems like a dream, I find myself struggling with the pure ecstasy. Such struggle is not uncommon for me as my emotions are a waterfall in constant motion. I am battling because I want to hang onto the happiness but I know that I will inevitably be saddened as the experience becomes a mirage in the distance and will eventually fade away. 

Reflecting on our time together, I know what it was for him and what it is for me. I am left wondering why it happened now and if it will have any affect on the future. I would assume it does not but you never really know for sure. Of course just as I over analyze every situation, I will allow my imagination to take me to places that don't really exist and places where he will never forget me and perhaps even wish he was with me.