The Guitar and The Singer

Music, it has a direct line to our very soul, for me it is all I have ever known, right from the age of four years old I held a guitar in my hand, dealt a steady rhythm on the piano, and was able to get in touch with my inner Beethoven using my father’s old trumpet. It’d seemed to me that music would be my only love, and so it was, that was in till I discovered the joys of sex. 

Yes, the wonderful sight of a women’s curves, the pleasure of feeling her body and kissing her lips. The wonderful feeling of orgasm on top of orgasm became an intoxicating curse. Soon, I was not even picky about which women I slept with, soon it was all I did, going out, drinking, and picking up a different women every night. I lost friends and I was close to losing a whole lot more.

It wasn’t till my very best friend named Jenny was able to help me realize that this was not my true love. She was the only women whom I had never thought about having sex with, ever. We were too close; she had known me almost as long as my guitar had. The friendship we had achieved had lasted from early childhood and all the way into college, she was the only one who didn’t abandon me, didn’t see me as the pig that I had become.

Jenny was beautiful in her own right; standing tall at 5’7” she had long blonde hair and a perfect smile; her eyes were just the perfect shade of green. Her days as an athlete on the track and cheerleading teams had formed a flawless perfection of athletic physique to match her 36 C breasts and her nice firm and round bum. Every guy wanted her, and every girl wanted to be her, but I alone knew that no man every had a chance, for she was too shy, and no girl could be her, for she was too perfect. Even as a friend, I could see this. I had always known she was a great athlete, but it wasn’t till I heard her sing that I realized that her perfection had come full circle, it wasn’t till I heard her sing that I suddenly realized how much I missed music.

It happened by complete accident, one day over the long summer between college semester’s I had gone over to Jenny’s house to spend an afternoon away from my boring job and the local coffee shop. As I pulled into her driveway I noticed her in her mother’s garden, she was sitting alone and at first I thought she was reading a novel, something she loved to do in her private time, soon I realized however that she was singing, singing so very beautifully.

It brought back a familiar memory, one that hit me deep at the core; it was my love for music, but not just music, music with something much more beautiful. Jenny. Why had it taken me so long to realize? Why had it taken me so long to see? Music, it had been my life for so long till sex, it was because of music that I had lost my virginity in the first place, but why now does it sound so appealing. Again the answer was simple, Jenny.

“I didn’t know you could sing” I say as I approach the fence.

“Oh, Doug it’s you” she says slightly startled. “I can’t sing, that was nothing, just me fooling around.”

“It was good, good rhythm, in tune, very elegant and unique with personality” I tell her, surprising even myself.

She looks at me curiously “I haven’t heard you talk like that in five years” She said.

“I was surprised myself” I responded. I step around the white fence into the garden and give her a hug.

We soon left the garden, walking the short path into her house, as I climb the steps to her bedroom I noticed a room that because of my ignorance had eluded me before, it was filled with instruments, along one wall rested neatly on their stands were three or four acoustic top of the line guitars, to the right was a standard piano, but to the left was an assortment of electrical guitars as well as two violins.

“Wh-What is that?” I ask stunned.

“Oh that’s nothing, just my dad’s private collection of instruments” She responds.

“Nothing? Hardly nothing, it’s more than impressive, do you think he would mind” as I pick up a very nice looking Gibson.

“No, please” said a voice behind Jenny. Her father looking at me with a puzzled expression. He seemed amused that I could even play the guitar. Almost as if he didn’t think I could. I must admit, it was hard, but Jenny’s voice was the decider.

Without hesitation I picked up the guitar and played one of my favorite tunes, singing along I lost my self once again in the music and for that short four minutes I was happy as a child, but as soon as the song was done I remembered how much I fought going back to music for so long and the reasons why.

“Thank you sir” I say as I hand him back the guitar.

“You got some real talent kid” he responds with apparent satisfaction

“Once upon a time” is all I can respond.

We travel the short distance to Jenny’s room, once there she curled up in my arms like old times. This time however, I wondered if things were different. If perhaps the music awoke something between me and Jenny that only her voice and my guitar could comprehend. Too early to tell, as I kiss the top of her head and we watch the T.V in silence.

To be continued….