Billy and His Guitar

[Tiffany Call-Black]

I’d have to say the one thing most people may not know about Billy is he is an awesome guitarist. He doesn't bring it out in public often, I get to be the audience most of the time. And…when he sings, I swoon. As silly as that sounds, I do! He has this lovely low rumble in his voice that just makes me weak in the knees!

 

I remember years ago he would play more often, at the center occasionally. When I started to take care of him, he would get it out and I could hear him strumming, playing, easing his pain and loss with touching songs of love and want.  I would sneak a peek and watch how his fingers caressed the strings, applying the gentle pressure to make the guitar come to life. I would watch his face and see the expressions and wonder, did he look like that when he was full of passion for other things? I could see the emotions, raw, as he sang the words, softly to himself, and I suppose, to Sarah. It was a way he could send her his love.

 

If he was in a little more of a rock and roll mood, he was just as much fun to watch, exerting the energy to vibrate the room with the riffs. His foot would set the time and if he could have danced around the room he would have. I noticed though, that when he finished, there was a sadness in him, and he often set the guitar down abruptly, as if it was too painful to continue, being confined in his chair.

 

As I got to know him better and on a more personal level, I began to see that his guitar was his lover. He knew how to touch her, how to stroke the fret and pluck the strings to get the sound and response he wanted from her. As my love for him grew, I could imagine him doing the same with me. But I couldn't say that out loud to him. I would catch myself awestruck, staring at his strong hands softly moving along the strings, and would quickly move away before he caught me starting, raw aching want on my face for him.

 

These days, he hasn't been playing as much. I miss the sound of his music as I work around the house. I would love to once again watch him, peeking at his private time with his mistress, to see the love, the relaxed, pure enjoyment, being lost in her embrace, making her sing for him.  I don't know if I would let him know, interrupt that time with his guitar and his Sarah. Those are private times for him. I just hope he hasn't given them up because of my presence now.