Band On The Run

My Mistakes Were Made For You

Flexing my stiff fingers, I leaned back against the wall with a sigh, my eyes flickering closed tiredly.

With the motion my guitar dropped back flat on my stretched out legs from its propped up position. Instead of fixing it in order to play another bar of the song I laid my aching hands on top of the rusty old guitar flat on the strings. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, my ass literally felt frozen and I could already feel the tension building up from my shoulders to my neck, but at the moment it would do.

However it seemed it wouldn’t do, though it wasn’t through a decision of mine. It was the light knock on the door announcing someone’s presence out of politeness before the door moved open slowly.

Peering out from beneath my heavy eyelids, I watched as Nick entered the music room with a hesitant expression, glancing about him.

For a moment I couldn’t help but think that there had once been a person in my life that wouldn’t have bothered with politeness. No, he wasn’t much for it, he would have just barged in the door, that was more his style. Not that I would have even had just one music room with him.

When the thought came through my mind, it helped my sleep fogged mind wake up slightly, and I shook my head as if it would fling the thought from my mind. That wasn’t something I should be thinking, and I blamed my lack of sleep on it. Plus it just put Nick in a better light than ever, didn’t it? It just proved how much more respectful he was.

“Coffee?” he offered, holding up the large baby blue mug up with his words.

Mentally having to force my body into it, I turned the corner of my lips up. “Thanks,” I told him, sitting up. But immediately I had to wince at the croaky sound of my voice.

Giving a cough to get rid of the rusty feeling, I gripped the guitar by the neck and pulled it off my lap, propping it against the wall. Not feeling like getting up at the moment, I just reached out to take the coffee offering from Nick, immediately taking a deep gulp like a wandered with water in the Sahara.

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

His words had my eyes flickering up to where he was standing, his hands tucked into his crisp pair of jeans. Guilt flickering like the ever present friend it was in my stomach, I shrugged. “I got a few hours,” I promised, my voice sounding much easier if a little hoarse, which was true. I’d fallen asleep next to him last night and stayed there for a few hours. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

And that was also true, but it wasn’t the full extent of the truth. My mind hadn’t shut up, and I’d awoken beside my boyfriend with another man altogether on my mind. With that knowledge I hadn’t been able to continue lying beside his peaceful body with his bare chest moving up and down. I’d pulled on pyjama pants and a tank top before coming out here where I threw myself into writing.

Nick stared at me for what seemed like an eternity, his expression not betraying a clue to his thought process. “How’s the song going?” he asked, apparently accepting my words without a fight.

Purposefully not letting myself give a sigh of relief because that would be far too obvious, I took a long sip of the coffee, my eyes lowering away from him as I did so. The time I took was enough to compose myself, because my voice came out evenly when I spoke next. “It’s alright; I’ve been working on it for a while. I’ve got this melody in my head,” I revealed, “I’ve just been working on the melody and singing the notes, I haven’t got to the words yet.”

“What’s it sound like?”

I rolled my lips into my mouth at his words, letting them resonate through my head. What does it sound like? It sounds like a funeral song. It’s mournful to the highest degree and tinged in regret. Unless the words I worked out for it completely changed my idea of the song, it’d be a slow acoustic song, heavy on the vocals and I wouldn’t cut out the finger noise, it’d make it sound more present and weighty.