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Playing Your Song

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Let’s start from the end of the story and work our way back to the beginning. A miracle happened, you came backOne look at you and my questions were answered. I was a wanderer’s daughter and you were a rolling stone.

It was an exciting time-the universe heard me after 19 years! My dad was here, and as a bonus, I had a half-brother. How could this all be happening to me? I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. I had a big extended family all of a sudden: countless cousins, uncles, aunts. The picture-perfect life that I prayed for was here. It was everything I wanted. It was everything that everyone else had growing up. I was finally like everyone else.

The truth is that I had no clue what I was in for upon your return.

Three months passed. We were together every weekend. You were carefree, confident, and always had people around I had so much fun with you. Life was a party, and you were the planner. That was your lifestyle; you dropped in and you left. You never stayed anywhere too long. 

I remember very little of our time together. On one occasion, Ivisited you in Mastic Shirley. When it was time for me to head home you drove me to the LIRR. It was snowing that night, but the train was coming in a few minutes so we said goodbye and I’ll see you next weekend. There were no trains that night. All train schedules were canceled. I was left alone. Again. This time on a train track freezing and far away from home. Eventually, you returned after a family member contacted you endlessly. On your return, you were happy to see me and absent-minded of your careless behaviorI realized then I was just another passing person you dropped off at the train. I wasn’t your daughter that you left at the train station.

That night we returned to your house, and you started playing music and loud. We were hanging out. He liked rock music. You said to me, “Whenever I heard this song. I thought of you; this is your song.” The loud music tripled, and the house vibrated. Sweet Child of Mine by Guns and Roses started playing. With my seat shaking, I remember looking at him. That was my moment. The only moment I clearly remember.

The storm passed the following day, and my father and half-brother drove me to the train station once again. They waited for the train to come and watched me walk onto the train this time. We all said goodbye, and I would see them both the next weekend. I hopped on the train and headed home to Queens.

My father died that week. It was a sudden death- years of excessive hard drug use, alcoholism, and from what I saw that night, a broken heart finally took its toll.

From the moment I met my father all I could dream about was the endless exciting scenarios in my head. 

• My Wedding Day I would have a dad to walk me down the aisle!
• Dating The guys would surely not getaway with too much anymore! I had a dad and a brother now. I had backup.   
• Children When I have children they will have a grandfather now!

My point is the fairytale didn’t work out in my favor. And that’s ok. I write this for anyone that has moments of asking, “What could have been?” or “How could this happen to me? The lesson I learned is that some people are only capable of giving a little. That doesn’t mean that they don’t love you or want to be in your life. It’s simplethey are not capable of giving you the big world you deserve. 

Don’t let your daydreams fuck you. Take the time and meditate on granting second chances to people. Just because someone comes back does NOT mean you have to take them back. 

He had blue eyes, lived free, lived hard, liked rock music, and in the spaces in between, he listened to Sweet Child Of Mine and thought of me. He showed me that love is demonstrated in unconventional ways sometimes. And I am so grateful for that lesson.

Playing your song…Where do we go now? We move on. Dimensions now separate us. We are together but apart. 

My dear friend, thank you for my song. I love it with all of my heart.

 

About The Author

Dee Marian’s writing is inspired by her life experiences and holds an undeniable tone of honesty. Described by some as a sweet, dynamic, and vibrant soul, she is energized by speaking her truth in hopes that another reader can feel connected to her by collective experience.

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