All Yours Somehow

August 2011

“So I’m going to say the same to you as I said to my mother,” John said, as he sat me down in front of his laptop. “I’m going to play you something and I want you to promise me that you’re not going to cry because I don’t think I can handle you crying over this, especially not like my mother did.”

“John O’Callaghan, what have you done?” I asked, as I looked from the blank screen in front of me to his nervous face.

“Now you sound like my mom!” he laughed. “This is just kind of a gift from me. There’s, er, there’s two songs I’m about to play for you. Erm, the first is for you and the second is for my mother but they sort of link together since you’re both the most important women in my life.”

“Are you serious?” I asked, completely stunned. “You wrote a song for me?”

“To be fair, I’ve written songs about you before, I just never told you,” he said, with a half smile.

“You have? Which ones?”

“Oh no, I’m not telling you now!” he laughed softly. “Just listen to this one. So promise me, no crying?”

“I’ll try my best,” I told him.

“No, promise me.”

“Alright, alright, no crying, I promise,” I said.

John leant forward and pressed play on one of the songs. As soon as it started, I immediately heard his voice singing.

Went outside and saw the moon
And it made me think of you
And the rain it came, and came
There you were inside my brain

I've been thinking of you
I've been thinking of you

Driving in my car
(I heard the radio)
Play that dylan song
(“The times they are a-changin’”)
But you still haven't changed your mind
So I sat and sang along
I was singing along
I've been thinking of you
I've been thinking of you

Cause you’re in my head
And I can't take it
I need you by my side
So I'll take the 10 and I'll drive 'till dawn
To show you I'm the one

Went outside and saw the moon
And it made me think of you

I've been thinking of you
I've been thinking of you

I've been thinking of you

As the song ended, my mouth dropped open as I went to speak but John quickly stopped me.

“Don’t say anything yet,” he said, pressing play on the next song. “You need to hear this one!”

The next song began to play and I noticed a difference between the two straigh away. This one was a lot slower and John’s voice sounded different.

Before I go
Please know I'm trying
Trying to be a better man
Before I leave
Please don't get angry
Just dry your eyes and take my hand

I'll make this right
Oh, I will try

Jenny don't you cry
Close your eyes
Everything is gonna be alright
You're so young and still so free
Jenny take my hand
Understand
I will try to be a better man
Without you there is no me
Jenny

There is a boy inside me running
From a man I've yet to meet
I see his face it only scares me
I hope things change eventually

I'll make this right
Oh, I'll try

Jenny don't you cry
Close your eyes
Everything is gonna be alright
You're so young and still so free
Jenny take my hand
Understand
I will try to be a better man
Without you there is no me
Jenny

I'll make this right
Oh, I will try

Jenny don't you cry
Close your eyes
Everything is gonna be alright
You're so young and still so free
Jenny take my hand
Understand
I will try to be a better man
Without you there is no me
Jenny

“So?” John asked, looking me expectantly.

“I can see why your mom cried,” I said.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“John I could say a thousand words and they still wouldn’t be enough to fully explain what that just meant to me,” I smiled.

“So you liked it?” he asked, a smile beginning to spread across his face.

“Of course I did. Thank you,” I said, as I leaned towards him and kissed his lips. “So when do I get to hear the rest of the new songs?”

“Soon, I hope,” he told me. “That’s not the final mix you just heard though, I just wanted to make you and my mom liked them.”

“Well, I do,” I grinned. “So now, will you tell me what other songs you wrote about me?”

“Nice try, but no,” he laughed, getting up and taking his laptop away from me. “Thanks for not crying by the way he called as he made his way up stairs.

“No problem, asshole!” I called after him.

----------

“What the fuck are you doing?” John asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Trying to suss you out,” I said, as I pressed play on another song on his laptop.

“You mean you haven’t already?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand you, John, not for the rest of our lives,” I told him, my eyes flashing towards him quickly.

“OK, but you’re going to try for now by listening to my songs?” he asked, walking towards where I was sat in his den.

“I just want to know what you’ve been singing about me!” I said. “Now ssh, I need to hear what you say.”

John laughed as Right Girl began to play from his computer.

“This one isn’t about you,” he smiled. I clicked pause on the song and chose the next one, Into Your Arms. “Neither is this one. I barely knew you when I wrote this.”

“Then please tell me,” I whined. “This has been driving me crazy since you told me yesterday!”

“Urgh, I wish I’d never mentioned it and just played Thinking Of You and not said anything else,” he sighed. He got up from where we were sat and bent down and kissed the top of my head. “You’ll work it out.”

“I don’t want to have to work it out!”

“You will though. Besides, I’m all yours,” he winked before walking out of the room.

I sat and listened to a few songs before it suddenly dawned on me.

“I’m all yours,” I said out loud. I laughed and shook my head when the realization hit me. “You dumb bitch.”

I pressed play on the right song and sat there smiling to myself for three or so minutes. Once it was finished, I turned his laptop off and went downstairs in search of John. I found him in the kitchen stood over the cooker. Walking over to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him closer before kissing the back of his neck. He twisted his head slightly and I could see the smile and on his face.

“Hey,” he said, turning around to face me. He pressed his lips to mine with force and I closed my eyes. As he pulled away, I sighed.

“Oh honey, don’t stop now,” I breathed.

“You worked it out then,” he stated raising one of his eyebrows.

“Yes. You’re the devil, O’Callaghan,” I said.

“That I am, baby,” he said, turning back to cooking. “That I am.”