Remembering Sunday

I waited and waited and held my breath for two weeks; I had been giving every concert my all. Sleeping and performing were about the only two functional things I could do anymore. I knew she was out there somewhere, because something in me knew she hadn't given up on me.

It was the night of the last show of the tour, and we were playing a club very close to home, back in Maryland. I had so little energy left to give, yet...I knew this had to be the best one of them all. I knew that I had to sing like I'd never sung before; I had to pour my heart into it all the way.

In other words, my heart told me that Sunday would show up and brighten my day with that smile of hers, lighten my life with her laugh, and sing my songs back to me and make me feel important. Music, you see, has this way of bringing people together, and I trusted in the music to lead me to her, just like the Jacky D had last time.

"She'll be here. I can tell," I announced to no one in particular, perhaps just needing to convince myself of my own assumption.

"Keep telling yourself that, dude. Whatever keeps you smiling," Flyzik yelled back at me, pessimistically.

"I will. She'll show, Flyzik. I'd bet you...a hundred dollars that she'll show."

He grinned at me, and I matched his grin back as we shook on it. "You're on, fool."

I'm no fool, and I [usually] don't make bets where I don't stand a chance...but my heart sank as I realized that if she didn't show, I would be out of luck, out of love, and out of cold hard cash. Shit.