Till the Day That I Found You

I opened my guitar case and stretched out my legs. Time to get working. I picked up my old friend and played around with different cords. I just let my hand go crazy on the frets. I started humming an interesting tune and tried to get the guitar to mimic me. I let my mind wander for a bit. Going in and out of daydreams is how I think of songs to write.

No one's ever really been able to understand that. Well, besides Erica. I get real quiet and get a blank stare. She leaves me be and doesn't harass me for what I'm thinking about. Sometimes, when she sees that I'm not too deep in thought, she'll come over and kiss my forehead lightly. She'd just smile at me and then go on her merry way.

That's one of the many things that I adore about her. She's always concerned that her loved ones aren't happy. I know she does that incase I'm not thinking of a happy memory. She wants me to know that she's there for me if I need her. But I know that. I always have. Even so, I enjoy being reminded every so often...

Erica was lying on our hotel bed reading her new issue of Surfing. She had her elbow dug into the pillow and her fist supporting her head up. She tucked a chunk of hair that had fallen into her field of vision behind her ear, then flipped the page. Her toes gently tapped each other and I could tell she was smiling. I scratched the back of my head and rubbed my eye. Walking over to her, she looked up at me. Then she went back to reading an article. I laid down next to her and wrapped my arm around her waist. All I got was a side glance. I made a face and peaked through the curtain of fallen wet hair.

"What'cha readin'?"

"Surfing."

I let out a quick sigh of annoyance, "Duh. What are you reading about?"

She turned to me, "Now that's," she leaned forward and kissed my nose, " an entirely different question." She grinned, and released a giggle, "I'm reading an article about John John."

"Who?" I said playfully.

"John John Florence! One of my favorite surfers!"

I laughed at her distressed facial expression, "I know. I'm just playing."

She turned back to her magazine and continued reading. I put my head on my pillow and unwrapped my arm from around her. I moved the hair that kept falling in her face behind her ear, then returned my arm over her back. I watched her face. I noticed how her cheeks looked kinda chubby from this angle, but hey, more to kiss. I also noticed a pimple that was growing on the side of her head. She must have covered it up with her make up before. Her skin wasn't perfect, another touch up she must have done. And from looking at her profile I realized that her nose was like a mini version of her father's Italian honker.

But even with all this, she was beautiful. Her eyes never sure if they wanted to look blue or green, so they appeared both shades with some clouds of grey. Her eyes also full of wonder from what she was reading. Her face slightly glowing from the knowledge of John John's back injury; She knew she wasn't alone. (He fractured his back too.) Her jaw line that made my knees quiver sometimes. Her lips, something I knew well, soft and well hydrated. Even her eyelashes, naturally long and full. Her hair wet from her resent shower, slowly starting to dry and recurl. I smiled. She noticed.

"What are you looking at?"

"You," I said dreamily.

She made a face, "Why?"

"Cause I love you and you're beautiful."

"Aww, and your blind." She rolled over so she was on her side, her back facing me.

I moved her hair and kissed her neck, "I am not. Except it you're pretty."

"I'm not, let it drop."

I huffed, "Fine. We each have our own opinions then." Silence. "Can you help me with something?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"I'm working on a song and I need help with a lyric." She rolled over and faced me, giving me her full attention. I slid my other arm under her and held her to me. Close enough for our bodies to be touching almost everywhere, but far enough away that we could comfortably discuss lyrics. "So all I have is, there's something about the way you sleep, when you're lying next to me. I don't know how you do your thing, no, but you do it, you do it, you do it to me."

She looked at me for a moment before saying, "And you need help with what?"

"Can I make the second verse about us having sex? Even though that hasn't happened..."

She pushed me back and sat up, "You're crazy."

"Am not!"

"Why," she stuttered, "why do you have to be so God damn adorable, then go ask if you can write about our imaginary sex that plays in your head? Which is a bit freaky, might I add."

"Hey! If anything it could be interpreted as a heated make out."

"But it's not! Zach, I understand the status of our relationship, but come one. Really?"

I rolled over so I could curl up in a ball with my back to Erica.

"Oh, come on. I didn't mean it like that," she rubbed my back. "Come on, Zachary." She pronounced it like "Zach-are-yyyyy", her own little way of talking to me when she was trying to make me smile. As always: it worked.

I rolled back over to face her, pretending to have a pout on my face.

"Aww, don't be like that," she smiled sweetly and moved my hair off my forehead. Replacing it with a kiss. "Come on, you have to see it from my way. Wouldn't you be kinda bothered if your... well, your girlfriend.. was writing songs about the sex you guys never had?"

I thought for a moment. Most of the lyrics thus far were what I was thinking when Erica and I were ALMOST going to do it, but it never followed through. I told her this, and she thought it over.

"Fine. You have my consent to write that into the song."

"Thank you!" I kissed her all over her face. She laughed like crazy. I let my lips finally meet hers.

Through her giggle fit she whispered, "I love you."

We kissed and became entangled in each other's arms...

I hit a cord that sounded terribly ugly. I cringed and looked at my hands. I stretched them and cracked my knuckles. I picked up my pick again and began to play.

"And the world of a boy and a girl starts to collide. Yeah, the fire is finally burning tonight. I like it when you're screaming woah. Backseat, you're pinning me down. I can feel your eyes undressing me. I want it, I need it, I'm begging you, please."

I smiled at this overly acoustic version of the song. I put down my guitar and took my harmonica out of my case. I sat there and played it, getting lost in the music again.