Last night very late Jake picked up his old beaten-down Martin guitar (that he usually pets instead of plays) and he started to sing a song I had never heard before. I had tears rolling down my face and he got more and more serious as he sang and finally at last his voice cracked just enough for me to barely hear it on the third to last line that he stopped and he put the guitar down and this morning after I took the kids to school I drove to the damned record store myself and bought the CD because the song was that good and he had been practicing it from memory whenever I left the house for a good while now. It's for 110 days of marriage, which is tomorrow, by the way. The mood just struck him, so I was treated to this gift just a little early. I love nights like that. Everything else fades away and I 've just got Jacob's voice. Maybe that's all I need.
Thank you, Damien Rice.
we might kiss
when we are alone
when nobody's watching
we might take it home
we might make out
when nobody's there
it's not that we're scared
it's just that it's delicate
so why did you fill my sorrow
with the words you've borrowed
from the only place you've known
why did you sing hallelujah
if it means nothing to ya
why did you sing with me at all?
I'm glad he didn't try to sing The Blower's Daughter, because I might have cried that much harder, and he laughed and said there was no way in hell he could do that song justice, but that I shouldn't think for a minute it didn't cross his mind more than once.
Oh, just kill me now. Please. I am so spoiled.
