I got caught googling “What to do when you feel like a failure” last night.
Not sure why he chose that particular moment to ask, “What are you doing?”, but he did, and I thought about saying “nothing”, but I didn’t.
I was reading through a variety of step by step instructions and even bookmarked a heartfelt commiseration from another woman who also expected too much from herself. But my eyes stung from the barrage within.
He said he felt like taking a shower. I accidentally quoted a line from a Journey song in response.
He immediately pulled up the song on the screen and Steve Perry sang the words “Feeling That Way Too”, which led to other Steve Perry songs, which led to Bryan Adams and Corey Hart, and finally Styx.
Now I know for sure that this man speaks my language.
No swooping in to fix my problems.
No bothersome interrogation or analysis or lecture.
He just surrounded me, on a serendipitous cue, with our favorite songs from way back in the restless thirsty longing of adolescence, when the cumulus nimbus future loomed just ahead. A time when all I wanted was to be free to make all the mistakes I wanted, even though my heart didn’t know at all what it needed.
He’s good. Very, very good.