rebena
Rebena
Reb, 30. I'm not like normal people.
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A woman scorned
Go on tell me I’m beautiful while you whisper my name,
These sweet nothings will indulge me as I act as if you’re not all the same.
Speak about my eyes as you stare at my chest,
Promise me despite my pain you’re not like the rest.
Kiss my head softly and run your fingers through my hair,
Rid me of my loneliness as I convince myself you care.
Lead me to believe I’m the one and how my heartbreak you will shed,
Tell me whatever you need to so that you’ll eventually share my bed.
For I know fairytales are for children and true love does not exist,
and men are not knights in shining armour who save princesses with a kiss.
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Let me tell you a story about a boy…
When I first met him I gleefully shouted the name of the band on his t-shirt, as if by association I’d be considered ‘cool’, only to discover he was the brother of the main singer! He had long hair, an infectious smile and a playful yet caring demeanour about him, I was instantly intrigued. Then later that evening I saw him look at her, I mean really look. She was emotional as she openly shared her troubles with us, he put his arm around her as he looked at her with such compassion, I mean that look… it was so genuine, so heartfelt; it almost looked like a longing to love in itself, or maybe even a defiance of sorts.
I felt drawn to him, but by what I wasn’t sure, I was too young to understand. Once I saw him sitting in a church row head between his hands, I could feel his inner turmoil, no arm was around him, no one looking at him lovingly. His pain to me felt like a question, as if he was searching for an answer… but then again who was I to know?
Then a moment happened which I’ll never forget! As I sat in the church hallway I heard this sound that made the hairs on my arms stand on end, it felt like when you stand too close to a speaker at a concert and your heart almost feels as though it’s beating in time to the music. This was music from the heart, that genuine love, that defiance, that pain, those questions, that searching it poured out into a beautiful melody and if the world could stop turning it did, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard. I only wish I could go back and hear it all over again… as I entered the room I saw him standing on stage playing his guitar and I’m not sure if I just wanted to play like him or just wanted/had to be closer to him but I started to get guitar lessons from him.
In his presence, I could barely speak, why? Again who knows!? I was too young to fully grasp it, even now I don’t think I’d understand, but I knew I was drawn to him. As he’d drive me home songs from ‘The Police’ would be blasting in his car, ‘Every little thing she does is magic…’ a teenage me wanted him to see me that way, the way I saw him, I guess it felt at the time like I really saw him but I also glimpsed the mask he wore too…
Later in life as our paths crossed again he no longer seemed to be that guy I’d once met, his mask seemed more prominent than before, his searching more profound, his questioning stronger than ever. Looking back it’s even possible that he did look at me like I once looked at him, but not how I’d hoped. I was a question, but not the answer. However, I still feel there is that boy inside of him pouring it all out into a beautiful melody on the strings of his guitar.
If only he could have seen himself through my eyes and heard my heartbeat to the melody he once played. If only.
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