Music

"I'm willing to let you in if you promise not to let anyone else in on it," he said.

I gave him my word. He believed me, but said he would wait until he thought I was ready.

I was afraid he would change his mind. I also wondered if he would even remember.

Days passed.

The songs did not reach me.

But he gave me something else, not any less precious. I cherished it. I am cherishing it now. His words written beneath the hard cover. His signature. And the story that lies within. Not just the writer's, but of our own shared time and space. At least that was what he said.

The next day he told me he had left a little surprise for me. And that was the last time I spoke to him. I typed in my all too familiar username and password. There it was. Seventeen tracks. Seventeen secrets that we were now sharing.

I drown myself in them everyday. I have them on repeat. And when I don't, I'm absorbed by the story. I take it slow, not wanting it to end. Now I'm seeing true music, not just in the songs, but in the words that form the story in the book.

And I miss him, needless to say. The other day, I realized that he is my third favorite man in the whole world. That is a big deal, isn't it? I just wish he would be here again.