Each caress had me melting into her.
“My brain is a bit like that painting.” I pointed at a multi-coloured abstract splattering of brush strokes hanging on the wall.
“Lively.”
“Sometimes when I’m feeling overwhelmed that painting is the only thing that makes sense to me.”
Lily tilted her head towards me, as if trying to understand me. “Could I hear some of your personal music? You said you’d let me hear that song you were working on in Greece. But it’s okay if you’d rather not. I just wanted to ask.”
“Sure,” I said, trying to play it cool. “But there’s a ton here. We could be here a while.”
“The more the better.”
“I should warn you, there’s stuff on it about my ex.”
“I’m okay with that. What matters to me is that it’s about you and how you felt during a pivotal moment in your life. I just want to know you better and I think this is where you put part of yourself.”
I stood, leaving behind her glorious caresses, and loaded up my best unreleased personal music. This collection wasmy most private. I hadn’t shared it with anyone else and didn’t intend to.
But Lily was different.
She made me want to risk being seen for a second, so that she might understand me better. Maybe it would help open her up too, so that I might understand her a bit better as well.
We listened in silence, me sitting cross-legged on the floor, Lily sitting forward on the sofa, elbows on her knees, hands clasped in front of her. She nodded to the beat at the more energetic songs, sometimes smiling, other times looking quite pained. I felt like she was fully absorbing it. My lyrics were quite blunt at times and didn’t hold back, mostly because they were never meant for anyone else’s ears. It was my soul crying out for answers in the dark. It was confessional. It was dramatic, yes, but that’s how I’d felt when I’d penned and produced them. My mind had worked so fast my hands struggled to keep up. Writing them had been cathartic.
The song with the waves from Greece came on. I let Lily know. The production was sparse to allow for my vocals to take centre stage, with little more than the waves in the background. I could never sing this song live. It was too confessional and raw. Too vulnerable. Especially the lines, you say I’m too much and I believe itandI always knew you were going to leave me.The song had a haunted quality and even listening to it now gave me that empty and hollow feeling again. Some songs helped me get it all out; some songs like this still hurt.
The playlist came to an end and I switched it off, feeling more naked than when we were on the boat in Greece together.
“I don’t know what to say. That was incredible.” Lily puffed out her cheeks. “I already want to listen to it all again. I know you know this, but my God, Rona, you are so talented.”
“That’s kind of you to say.”
“I’m not being kind. It’s the truth. Your songs are so beautiful. They made me feel emotional, like, your songs touched me.”
Lily wasn’t judging me for the lyrics. It was comforting to feel held like this. “That’s wonderful, thanks.”
“Do you have a name for the song with the Greek waves?”
“I was thinking of calling it an Ode to Sappho.”
“After her poem, An Ode to Aphrodite, the goddess of Love?”
“Yep. That’s so cool you know that.”
“I read about it while we were in Greece.”
“Nice. I took inspiration from her request to Aphrodite to ease her pain of being rejected by the one she loves. It’s kind of what the song is about, too.”
“And you don’t want to put your music out yourself?”
“No. I might give a few songs to different artists, depending on if they would fit them.”
“They sound so good. Surely it’s a waste to give them to someone else?”
“I played one or two of the dancey ones at the close of the festival in Lesvos. That’s about as far as I’ll take it.”
Lily gave me a long hard look, like I was crazy to be like this, but that she also understood I felt strongly about it.
