Will smiles, but it’s the strangest smile I’ve ever seen from him. It’s shy, nervous even. He looks uncomfortable, but he reaches for the guitar pick before leaning back to pull an acoustic guitar from behind the couch. Will mostly plays electric but keeps anacoustic in the small office space we use as a studio. It almost never comes out.
Will shoots me another self-deprecating look, like he’s pleading with his eyes for me to not make fun of him, then clears his throat and starts to play.
He starts to play, and then hesings.
His voice is low and husky, not at all trained or used to singing. He sometimes contributes to background vocals on stage, low harmonies or just singing along with adrenaline-charged choruses. I’ve never heard him sing something on his own like this, and a ballad of all things.
If I love you, let you go
Holding you is all I’ve ever known
I don’t know how to be anything else
I don’t know how to be alone
I’ve replayed almost every word
All the times you didn’t leave
I’m trying to be brave enough
To give you room to breathe
It’s selfish, or maybe it’s just fear
Hell, maybe it’s both
But you’re the only future I can see
I don’t know how to let go
I loved you, so I did it
And you came back to me
Now I can hold you the way I want
And I can finally breathe
I still owe you my apologies
But you barely let me grovel
I’ll spend the rest of my life on my knees
Get you on my level
I’ve always been in love with you
Even before I knew
All these years later, I’m still scared
To say these words to you
I love you, I’ll never let you go
Please just be with me
