a bittersweet road

There was once a man, slick with words but withdrawn for cash. A special type of being capable of evading the obvious. A gift that granted him access into territory very few had entered. Or ever will.

He had a library full of lyrics at his dispense. I was fortunate to cross his road once upon a time. He'd let you get to know him, or the him he chose you to see.

Incredibly shy, split in person. You never knew what the day would bring, from AM to PM. A new mister would appear. A name to match the persona. He thought I couldn't begin to understand that the man in the evening was not who I'd spoken to in the AM.

"Sorry if they caused you too much pain"

He was a sensitive man, with a tongue so sharp. And a heart made of gold. He'd show you how it bleeds. But never touch on why. Why does one man hold so much in when he has a gift people would line up to learn?

"you don't understand."

I could not begin to. He'd created a world that made no room for anything other than the image. The words. the persona. The man behind the road didn't exist. In a way, it was the most selfless act a human could do.

" I'm the most selfish person I know. I could never be normal."

The world left him alone. He was married to the rhythm of a beat. Constantly up scratching an itch that could never, ever be fully scratched.

"it's less a matter of want. It becomes something you can't escape, like a pull."

The world he'd created became a reality that required all of his being to commit. Entirely. With each phase requiring something more of him. His world was full of the sound, words, people he'd serve.

He'd say he was selfish and incapable of loving anything other than the music, but through the sound, he fell in love every time. Each place he'd go, love was all around. He'd leave a bit of himself everywhere. He'd leave a bit of love with each step.

"love is a dangerous thing. I can't allow it."

To succumb to the idea of romantic love was equal to sin. It was a sin in his eyes to let himself love. Where would a woman fit? To love another meant to leave behind the universal world, he'd created. One could not be with the other.

"I'm very intense, you see. A difficult person to love."

if you look close enough, you'd realise being intense is just another way of saying you are wide-eyed and present. If anything, we could all benefit from reviving the lost art of being present.

"There's a girl. And I wish I never met her"

The girl he referred to was nothing like he'd ever met.

"She's intense like Hades, but a sweet merlot rose when you cut deeper into her life."

You'd think this was the sound of love at his doorstep.

"It's not love, just a deep infatuation. You see, she robs a man of his attention to the life he knew."

Love was not on the cards with this girl. He was just deeply infatuated with her. Convinced that she could never love a man like himself, a selfish man. So he'd settle for cheaper versions. A way to fill the gap, spend time with anything to forget about her.

"She has a unique way of seeing the world, great taste too. Although she's got a body that could replace breakfast. That's not even the best part. It's her mind. I've never known someone to be built like her. The way she moves. I'm inspired. That's why I'm drawn, really, but we could never work."

Knowing that he never had a "horse to run in that race" was his decision. A way to soften the blow.

A way to excuse himself from ever really trying.

Why would he give up the universe he'd created for an "infatuation" The math, even by love's definition, did not add up.

"Love is a bittersweet road.  

A road that does not have my name on it."

She'd stirred something in him, so sharp and impolite.

With the world he'd created, changing a look came easy.

But what the man in the mirror could not begin to fathom was...

how it could be to

have the sound

and love

go hand in hand.