Boys With Guitars

What is the attraction? Why is it so easy to fall for the person as well as the music?

Well sometimes they just make it too easy with the trademark ragamuffin looks and the Sensitive, Wounded Nature. But with this one it was different—I felt a kinship from the start when I looked across the room and saw him standing there. It’s hopeless and it’s wrong, I thought, but I couldn’t help myself.

So let’s start from the beginning. How do I explain? Well, one day a couple years ago I heard this amazing music from this person and I thought, why do I know that name? And I thought about it some more and realized that of course it is that guy I know from a while back who used to have that band. And so I listen some more and am intrigued but there are no opportunities to meet or see a show or anything, and months pass.

A friend drags me out to see this person play at our favorite club, and I am of course blown away. It is the best thing I’ve seen in years, I can’t believe it. But I try and have a life, and continue on, listening to this record when I have a chance. More months pass.

Late summer rolls around and finally there is a chance to see this person again. We go to the same club again and I vividly remember the first time I saw this person walk in. Again, I can’t stop looking at him, there is this quality that I am drawn to which intrigues but scares me. I stand off to the side of the stage and wait for the show. I am drawn deeper and deeper into this person’s world through these songs, and they speak to me about being lonely and I realize, wow, I am lonely too, how is that possible when I have been in this relationship for so long? But something has clicked in my head and I can’t stop listening and watching, it’s scary and mesmerizing. The show goes on, and this amazing song is being played, I listen and it’s like, my life is being played out onstage, how is it possible that this person knows about this. And of course, that’s their job, they’re an artist, but it’s not just that because I look at this person and cannot stop looking, there is something familiar about it all. He looks like someone I’ve known in my life. The show ends, I have an overwhelming desire to meet this person and hug them and tell them it’s going to be ok but this feeling of connection is so powerful and I am terrified of it so instead I just leave.

I cannot let go of this person and the idea of meeting them. It is not an obsession, it is just that I feel a kindred spirit that I have connected with and must meet in person and help in some way. I can’t explain it any other way. So I think about how can I meet and talk to this person, and eventually I think of a way.

I see him and am again terrified and drawn in. How am I going to talk to this person and not lose my mind? But I gather myself and go upstairs to try and act like the professional writer that I am trying to be. So I sit down and talk, and before I know it half an hour has passed and he has revealed himself to me to an extent that I have not expected. There is a bond, and I know I have a new friend. And the best part is, he knows how to treat his friends, old or new, and hugs me goodbye and kisses me on the cheek and says thank you for coming to talk to me. This kind of treatment comes from no one else I know and I am again drawn in, flattered and terrified. I leave and am just realizing that something has changed in my life and I can’t explain it.

So I start thinking, how can I help this person out, knowing who I know and all. I contact my friend who knows the promoter of this event and I know all sorts of new people will see him. I know that on some level this is important and have a gut feeling something will happen if I put the right ingredients together. So I know from his smile that day that something good has happened, that things are somehow in motion. I am proud and happy because my friend is doing well and it means so much because I am in this club where so many wonderful things have happened to me over the years.

One more thing happens that day and that is that I am pulled backstage in this magical club past all my friends, into a room with all my musician friends past and present. It’s surreal, and my head is spinning but is begins to spin even more when my friend wants to know why I haven’t told him I’m married. It has never occurred to me to tell people and I am amazed that someone is thinking about me as an attractive woman. This has not been a big factor in my life—my significant other rarely tells me, and I certainly don’t think people are looking at me that way. So it is a pleasant shock to know that I am attracting attention from men in this way. A door in my mind opens and I start thinking of myself differently and it is exciting.

I think how can I reward this great person who has made me feel so good about myself, and I send a gift. One day the phone rings, and it is the news I have known I would hear from him all along, and I am so happy for him; I am thrilled that my friends will finally get to see what I have seen in this person. And I am so happy that in some small way I helped it to happen. It is the best feeling in the world, and I am so proud and happy that I feel like my heart is going to pop right out of my chest with joy.

Then it starts to get complicated. I begin to start thinking of him at odd moments of the day, and wonder to myself what is going on inside my head. I am caught with him in odd situations. This sort of thing does not happen to me, I am unaware of what is really happening…. I am all torn up inside because so much of me realizes that I wanted it to happen despite the effect it will no doubt have on our burgeoning friendship to say nothing of my life. It is indescribably arousing and complimentary to be thought of as attractive by this person. I am stunned because I wasn’t aware of this in myself—certainly never heard it elsewhere. I am suddenly, rudely aware of how unfulfilled I am in so many ways. It has been getting worse for some time, but suddenly the door has been kicked down. I am both grateful and heartbroken, because I know now that things are not going to be the same, and that there are problems in my life that need fixing and it will hurt like hell.

I am more and more drawn to this person who has made me feel so alive again, and it is wonderful and horrible at the same time. I am visibly upset in his presence but cannot stay away. It hurts to be around him because I am becoming increasingly physically attracted to him, emotionally drawn to him, and totally unable to express this because I know he does not like me in that way and I do not want to ruin the friendship. He makes me feel beautiful and alive and wanted and that is something I am getting nowhere else. But it hurts because I know my increasingly strong feelings are not and will not be returned—it is an impossible situation.

The night that it finally sinks in is so painful because he knows something is wrong and I can’t tell him except to say my marriage is not going well, which is true. And as I try to slip out the door before I start crying, he pulls me aside and tells me I am beautiful. I have to walk out immediately before I fall apart, and it is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I walk out into the cold, snowy night and barely remember getting home because the complexity of emotions I feel is making my head spin and my chest ache.

After that night, I want to continue to be his friend but it is so hard to be around him because I want to be more than his friend too, and I know that I cannot. And things are just too complicated--I have a lot of things to sort out. But it hurts so much. I want to help in any way I can because I sense someone who is deeply wounded and needs someone around who understands that kind of pain without having to explain it. I want to be the person who can be turned to whenever and wherever needed. He has given me so much—has reawakened my confidence and belief in myself, and have made me want to give this love and joy and happiness back to the world...

So that is what these boys do. They pull our hearts out from our chests and stomp on them with big black boots. They say the right things at 4 o’clock in the morning, never meaning to hurt us, only to ease their own pain and loneliness for a night, but then wonder why it is we fall in love with them over and over. We are women and we are romantic and we love their music, and we can’t help ourselves. So we are destined to keep falling for those Boys With Guitars.