All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free

***My muse asked me for a story the other day. I started this off completely differently, but this memory just kind of begged to be told. It's that thing I like the most--finding hope in the strangest of places.***



"So, you don't want to talk about it. That's fine. Let's talk about something else," he said (Goose, I secretly thought. He looks like Goose from Top Gun.)

I rubbed my eyes, which felt like they had sand in them. Sleep was something that was just out of my reach these days. I refused the sleep medication they offered me. Sometimes it was better to lay awake, to let the thoughts come, instead of dreaming. Anything can happen in dreams. And the dreams I found were the ones that left me shaking, sweating, and disoriented.
Better to lose sleep.

Goose looked at me, concern in his eyes. "You know, Sal, anytime you want that sleeping pill, you can have it."
I managed to find a smile for him. He was so genuinely concerned, so honestly worried about my emotional well-being, that it touched me.
He never treated me like just another patient. He was good to me, but he wanted me to talk. Was convinced that I needed it.

I tried to explain to him that the words sometimes were hard coming. Sometimes they were there, but they burned inside me. They twisted, they cut, they hurt. They were half-buried things full of sharp teeth, and sometimes it was better to leave them.

I looked down at my hands, waiting for his next question.

He cleared his throat and went on, "So, you don't want to talk about Cole, let's talk about your dreams. What do you want the most?"

I laughed at his unexpected question. "It's silly, and you can laugh if you want to. It's not my big dream, but it's a dream", I explained. "I want to be on a stage somewhere, in a dark, smoky club. The lights go down, just before I go on stage. As I walk out, I'm wearing a beautiful red dress. Long, strapless, and simple. The material shines almost as much as my hair.
I walk to the microphone, and I sing. Something soft, husky, and beautiful. Just one song. I don't even want there to be a big audience. Maybe ten, twenty people at most. And I only sing one song, but it's the right song. It's the right song, because when I'm done, there is complete silence. Good silence. You can tell that my song was perfect, and I sang it so that it gets lodged in your heart, in your mind, it makes you think of every emotion that was ever good and perfect and magical.
It's good in that way you know that something is really good, because it just kind of sits there and hums. It's good because it was just waiting for someone to come along and pick it up, and make it beautiful," I laughed softly, embarrassed at sharing so much. I kept looking down at my hands, waiting for his next question.

"What song is it?"

"You'll laugh," I tell him. I look up at him, expecting his eyebrow to be cocked, waiting for me to go on. Instead, he looks sad, introspective, thoughtful.

I take a deep breath, and tell him. When I find the courage to look into his eyes again, I see the emotion there, and he says to me gently, "I think that's perfect."


-------

Christmas. I ended up spending Christmas there.

It wasn't good, and it wasn't horrible. It was somewhere in between.
One moment, I'd start thinking about family, and I'd get lost in a haze of tears. The next, I'd remember something funny, and I'd find myself laughing til I hurt.

Goose had to work on Christmas, he probably requested it so he could keep an eye on me. I kind of liked that about him. He'd taken an interest in me. He liked me, and took any opportunity to make me laugh. Anything he could do to make me smile, or make me happy, he did. That was just his way.

I remember sitting in my room, the windows open, watching snow fall slowly past the window.
I wished I was one of those snowflakes. Beautiful, clean, and new. Not broken, like me.
I had my arms wrapped around my knees, thinking about what I was going to do, how I was going to do it, and wondering if I had the strength to do anything.

It was about this time that Goose knocked on my door (open), and threw a Santa hat at me. I couldn't help but laugh. He grinned at me, and looked over his shoulder, as if the Gestapo were just around the corner. "Hey, do you want some pizza? You said you liked pizza, so I brought some," he offered hopefully. I put the Santa hat on, walked over to him, and hugged him tight.
I felt him tighten up, but after a minute he relaxed, and hugged me back.

As we walked past the nurse's station, he told the fiery redhead at the desk (Jules) that he was gonna take me to eat some pizza. Jules was badass, in her own right. I remember asking her once if I could have the tweezers out of my purse, and she threw out a big old "no".
I told her I needed to tweeze, because my eyebrows were growing into one big caveman unibrow.
She didn't let me have the tweezers, but instead, tweezed me herself. Jules was made of alright.


We had to go through two locked doors to get to the staff lounge, and I remember being happy and skipping part of the way. It felt like a field trip.

When we got to the lounge, it was just me and Goose. He handed me a plate, and opened the pizza boxes with a flourish and a bow. I couldn't quit laughing at his ridiculousness.
While I was eating, he got up nonchalantly, and asked me if I'd like to hear some music. I agreed.

As soon as the first song started to play, I felt it not just touch my heart, but grab it, and it held on.
I put the slice of pizza down, and looked at Goose. His eyes were intent, watching me, drinking in my reaction.

He had found that song, my song, THE song.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

As I listened to the lyrics, I managed to find my voice enough to whisper, "This song makes me happy, but it makes me so sad, too. I don't know why that is. I love it, though. I think if I was a bird, I'd be a blackbird. Not the most beautiful, the song isn't the sweetest, but that doesn't stop me from singing," I just managed to get that last word out before I felt a tear slide down my cheek, and plop down on the table in front of me.

The next minute, I felt him hug me, pull me close, and I let him. I could smell his soap, that good, clean manly smell. I felt his hands stroking my hair, whispering senseless comforting words, and I just let myself exist in that moment, let myself be free. I let go, and I let him in.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free

"You, blackbird, are going to get better. This is just a town you're passing through. This is just a temporary thing for you. I see so much in you, Sal, and you don't even have any idea."

You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

---------








Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night
Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise