Beyond the Song by Carol Selick

Author:Carol Selick
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BookBaby
Published: 2021-07-09T17:47:30+00:00

18

REUNIONS

Why were we so blinded by the love that speaks our name?

While sitting round the fire, living life so tame.

Now we’re weaving bluesy blankets, wearing lost men’s threads

Keeping all the women warm who’ll never love again.

My music was fulfilling, but it couldn’t keep me warm at night or make me feel sexy. Yes, I felt proud of myself after recording my demo. The feeling stayed with me, but I had to face the fact that I was still addicted to love! Besides, where else could I get material for my songs?

Just as Melanie had predicted, Joshua, my college heartbreaker, came back into my life. He left “ego boost chick” and got his own place in Philly. He tracked me down through Melanie and wormed his way back into my heart. His timing was perfect.

I’d been having some casual flirtations, but was only dipping my toe in the water. I didn’t feel ready to take the plunge into the deep end, but the minute I heard Joshua’s voice on the phone, I was back to swimming in dangerous waters. He used the magic word “love.” That and a bunch of “I’m sorries” was all it took. He was a gifted salesman and he had something I was in short supply of.

It was easier for Joshua to drive to New Jersey than New York, so we began meeting at the South River house on weekends. It was a match made in heaven. Not me and Joshua, but Joshua and Joe. Two hippie dealers nickel-and-diming it until they could score the big one. The deal that would make them a ton of money and get them out of the business so they could pursue bigger and better things.

Melanie had left Colorado and was living at her parents’ house on Long Island until she figured out her next move. After reading her last letter, I wasn’t surprised she’d come home.

Dear Carol,

Oh! So many heavy things. Everything seems so nowhere. Where are we going? Doing? Wanting? . . . My head is in a weird place! I’m digging doing nothing but my parents are pissed. I have little desire to do anything. . . .

Lately, I’ve wanted to be cold and calculating—get myself a rich man. Promises are so empty. I dig Mark—but the minute he has a cent—he buys cocaine. I’m not complaining—but I’d think he’d like to pay his rent or eat something other than peanut butter!

Oh yes, I love the hippie life— naked, smoking dope, snorting coke, rapping, honesty, drinking beer, playing, balling—but I want me a rich hippie.

I don’t know what to write really. I’m feeling good and bad, lost maybe, no goals, only love. And that gets you nowhere.

I found it disturbing that Melanie wanted to find a rich hippie to take care of her. She was an intelligent, educated woman who was more than capable of taking care of herself. Somewhere buried in her psyche was a need for security. I could relate. No matter how hard we embraced

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