I nod yes. "I won’t tell her that though. I won’t tell anyone that, not even my closest friends." Shit terrifies me.
"Why? Love is spectacular and all-encompassing and by the way she looks at you the feelings are mutual." She pics at the new guitar and it softens my nerves knowing I gave her something special. She was about to pay it back too.
"Look, this is actually part of my idea. Like I said, lyrics? Not my thing. Neither is wearing my emotions on my shoulders, but what I need to hash out needs to be done in a way I expose everything and maintain my dignity."
She just watches me, intrigued as she taps her finger to the beats she made that play softly. She reaches for her notebook and starts writing? Notes maybe.
So... I tell her about the journals. The rape. The years I used her. Hurt her. I tell her about how it all started in a closet for seven minutes. I tell her about Tayla and Black, how I found out. I tell her about Axe and how Jen came back stronger and carried us through hell. I tell her how Tayla abandoned us both. I tell her how deep I went inside of myself to win Tayla over. I tell her it is why I can’t do it again.
We spend hours as I hash all my shit to this girl and by the time I have spilled all of it to her, she looks pale, pissed and sad.
Pretty much my function lately.
"Wow." Is all she says, and I get it.
"I know right?"
"Well..." She makes a huge sigh and looks at me with pity. So not awesome. "You want to use it I assume?"
I nod and scrub my face. "There’s so much in here." I say and rub my chest over my heart. "I can’t get it out though. I want to use it and blow her and everyone away. Is it possible you can help me do that in a few of the songs?"
"Like, me write the lyrics based on what you told me?"
"Exactly."
"No. Those are your feelings and experiences Calvin. I can feel it through your story, but to write it I would need your presence in it, to make it real. I can’t see you being able to open yourself raw like that." She places her hand on mine in comfort. "That’s what it would take. What you’re asking is a raw, bloody painful process."
I nod and look at my guitar. "Hand me my guitar and let me show you." I say as I adjust my guitar. I strum a few chords until I find the sound that uproots that pain...and I play and tell my story again. I don’t rhyme or make it eloquent, but the pain is heard in the things I say.
'They destroyed her... oh fuck they hurt her, tried to ruin her...'
'Tay left us empty to clean the mess of something I had no clue how, then Jen... Red came in and saved me, saved our son.'
She places her hand on my strings to stop me. "I get it, I hear the sound and what inspires it."
"So, help me." I say and to me it is that simple.
She looks at me, pondering something... Maybe if she can pull it off...Maybe if I can. "If we do this, I expect the raw shit Calvin. I don’t care if you cry or scream or punch shit. Move a boxing ring in here if you have to, but those emotions and those moments of intense grief is where the magic lies. Anything less is horseshit and even if the song works, we both will know it meant nothing."
"I am ready for it. It is hard, extremely hard to go through the shit inside of me with anyone, but for this I will do it. For her...this is my journal."
Cal
We worked for ten hours before finally stopping. The studio was full of to go food containers, soda and beer cans as well as thrown out paper everywhere. By the time we found the beat and settle on the emotion she pulled no punches.
"Is this about your ex killing you slowly or is it about some movie you watched Calvin? Go there! Feel it!" She demanded, and so again I would start and rehash shit I have buried. Dredge it up to the surface and exploit my heart for the sake of art.
I was a Cal I have never been. Not even at my lowest. I brought the worst, most painful things to the surface and kept them there to easily poke the wound.
By the time we had the first song mapped out and ready to practice it and record... I was a mess, but a cleansing happened in it. A healing. It was powerful way to process and as I re-read the lyrics and feel it in the music... it brings me peace.
I suddenly have a new understanding for music when I thought I knew everything. In the past, most of the personal and soul gutting lyrics are written by the guy feeling it in private. I had to display mine to get it clear. By the end of the track though, I was able to swap some lines and flip some words for a bigger impact.
"So, we will meet tomorrow?" I ask and throw shit in the trash.
She nods on a yawn. "I usually write before bed, but I think I am going to crash the minute I see my bed tonight."
I nod knowing how she feels. "Are you doing Uber or the bus?"
