Hanging By A Moment

I searched the audience from the wings looking for a familiar face. It was the same face I saw at the biggest of concerts and the smallest of gigs. It was the only face I needed to glimpse for my nervousness to melt away from the pits in my gut and for the strong hold on my throat to loosen. I searched the entire first row, the second and the third but I couldn't see her. I felt stones form in my stomach as I desperately tried to relax. It was only ten seconds later that I saw her sitting at the bar, at the back of the entire audience standing near the stage. I could feel the sudden relief, the sweat on my head cooling, as if I could feel a breeze blowing.

"In three.. two.. one" I was vaguely aware of the voice that maneuvered us on stage. My band mates confidently walked passed me, the three of them playfully boxing my shoulders. Strangely, even after years on stage, the nervousness never ceased to get the best of me, until I saw her.

It was the way she looked at me right in the eyes, the way she smiled confidently that helped me overcome my in-confidence. It was the look in her eyes that told me, that no matter what I sang tonight, no matter how good or bad I sounded, I could never disappoint her. For her, I was always at my best on stage. It was the calm expression on her face, that intense, unbreakable attention that she paid to me when I was on stage that told me that she listened to my music. The slightest jerk of her head when she felt my passion to the core, when she understood the emotion behind the sound that made its way out of my lungs. The way she held her breath when she saw me hold mine, in awe, she once said, at how powerful she thought my voice was. There were days when she would look at me with an unintentional grave expression, under which I felt naked to her power to see through me and I would realize that simply listening to my choice of songs for the night and the way I made them sound, she had yet again opened the doors to another part of my life, without my having to open them or explain to her why I had kept them closed for so long. She understood me. She understood my music. She understood my mind. She understood my life. Yes, she understood me.

" Desperate for changing,
Starving for truth,
I'm closer to where I started
Chasing after you.
I'm falling even more in love with you,
Letting go of all I've held onto.
I'm standing here until you make me move.
I'm hanging by a moment here with you. "

This was for her. Every word that I could hear in my own voice was for her tonight. I poured everything I had into it. I wanted her to hear how much I meant these words and they weren't just lyrics to another song I had written. And I knew she knew how much I meant what I sang. She knew how much I loved her. Just like every song I'd made her hear, every song that I had written, I didn't have to explain to her why I'd chosen those words. And I didn't have to explain tonight. She knew... she just did. I could see it in the way she smiled, the way she lightly bit her lip, the way she gently bowed her head, slightly to side, trying to hide the blush that was everything but inconspicuous to my eyes. It was the way she tried to escape my eyes, trying to look away as if her reaction wasn't meant for me to see that told me, she felt just the same.