The Guitar Man

I picked up my guitar and started playing this afternoon. I haven't plucked those strings in a long time now. My fingers were a bit uneasy at first, but after a couple of minutes, they were warmed up and started hitting the chords the way I wanted to.

Then it made me think.

Guitar was the first thing Bill and I had in common. If it wasn't for guitar, there wouldn't be us. Bill loves the blues, while I like acoustic pop, religious and classical. The first present he gave to me was a set of cds of his favorite artists. I still have it until now, safe in its blue cd bag that came along with a very touching note.

We loved listening to each other play. We would take turns appreciating a certain rhythm, trying to outplay the other. It was fun.

Now I noticed that we just play for ourselves. I understand that playing the guitar does not only derive pleasure for the both of us, but more as a means of solitude and privacy. Bill plays to calm his nerves and soothes his mind.

I guess when you get married, you get to know the other better.

But I still miss those times we played together. I'm always tingling with anticipation at what Bill would play for me and I always love listening to him. It could be a simple strum or a complicated finger style, he is amazing to me.

I wonder what he thinks of me when I play. Weird, that I never asked him.

I've always loved playing for him. He's is my best audience and my worst critic. Hope we can play together next time.