Eight months ago today
I still reach for you in my sleep.
The song is The Book of Love. It was written by the Magnetic Fields. A couple of years ago we were at a fundraiser at Stages Theatre Company. A band playing there, The New Standards played that song. It's on iTunes. Go get it. Jill sitting next to me, arm wrapped in mine, head on my shoulder. This was just before she was diagnosed and life was...something I enjoyed. She loved it. In the car on the way home she told me I should learn the words and sing it to her. I already knew them. I sang it to her all the way home. I sang it to her that night lying next to her in our bed. I sang it to her sitting in the cold antiseptic room while she was getting her first treatment. I'd sit on the bed next to her and sing it to her while giving her the shots she had to have. I sang it to her in the hospital. I sang it to her in that hospital bed upstairs in our house, the one that became her prison as her light slowly dimmed. I sang it to her to calm her down when the post-terminal anxiety kicked in. I sang it to her the night before she died when she was trying so hard to tell me something but could no longer speak. And I sing it to her most nights before I go off to sleep and weather the dreams of longing and anguish that fill my nights. I sing it because it's a beautiful song. I sing it because it's hers. I sing it in hopes she somehow hears and knows I'm still singing for her.
I still sing to you in the dark. I stopped singing out loud for others to hear the day you went away. I hope someday I find my voice again and sing out loud. I'd like that, or at least I used to and I’m a little afraid I'll learn the joy of that went with you. Just part of the neurosis of loss, I guess. If I do, if I sing it in public instead of alone in the dark, no matter who hears... this one is always, forever, and only for you.
The book of love is long and boring
No one can lift the damn thing
It's filled with charts and facts and figures
And instructions for dancing
But I, I love it when you read to me
And you, you can read me anything
The book of love has music in it
In fact, that's where music comes from
Some of it is just transcendental
Some of it is just really dumb
But I, I love it when you sing to me
And you, you can sing me anything
The book of love is long and boring
And written very long ago
its filled with flowers and heart shaped boxes
and things we're all too young to know
But I, I love it when you give me things
And you, you should give me wedding rings
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