of the senses.
head snaps up and I look at him. He’s looking down sheepishly, but he raises
his eyes to meet mine.
look at him skeptically and he is quick to follow up, “I swear it’s not a line.
My mom used to sing to me that way, and it’s been a while, so I was just
curious if it would work with you.”
and turns on the nightstand light, which isn’t more than an amber glow.
think about what song to sing. It’s not like it’s really going to matter much
to him, but I never make a song choice without thought. Music is the sound
track of life to me, so I decide something a little sad and soulful is in
order. I pick ‘Hallelujah’ by Jeff Buckley. Singing while flat on your back
with a person on top of you is no easy feat. I guess it doesn’t really matter
what the sound is like as long as the vibration is there, so with that in mind,
I keep my tone low and raspy. Luckily, I tend to feel right at home singing
alto, so this works out pretty nicely.
tentative in the beginning, who am I kidding, we both are. This should be
seriously awkward. We hardly know each other and we’re entering major bubble
territory…yet there’s also something very innocent and pure about it. I can
tell when he starts to relax and is more comfortable. I’m really letting go as
well now and just singing from my soul. He moves to where his head is fully on
my upper chest, right below my throat. By the third verse I stop worrying about
how weird this might be and the beauty of the situation full on hits me. I’m
able to give this man something that he’s never been able to give himself.
Sharing the joy of music isn’t only a passion for me, it’s a need, so we are
just two souls fulfilling a great need in each other.
exposed skin and pool in the hollow of my throat. They spark my own tears. The
idea that I can touch him so deeply this way, giving him nothing but my voice,
touches me deeply. Without thinking, I bring his arms around me and place his
hands flat against my back so he isn’t only getting the sound vibrations from
my chest, but he can also feel them from behind. It has its desired effect when
he sighs out against my neck. The song ends but neither one of us move. To be
honest, I have no words. In this type of communication words are useless. I
close my eyes and go right into ‘Brightest’ by Copeland. Somewhere around ‘As
my guitar gently weeps’ by the Beatles, I drift off.
Wheeler lives in the Central Valley of California with her husband and two
literature began in Jr. High when she was introduced to Lowis Lowry’s books.
Since then she has had a passion for writing Young Adult books, and creating
strong female leads. When she’s not writing, she is advocating for Autism
Awareness and involved in the deaf community.
favorite things to do are play with her children, craft with her friends, sleep
while her husband watches movies and indulge in her favorite addictions:
Coffee, candy and shoes.
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