If Zach Galifinakas Played Guitar…

I don’t actually have a “boy bucket list”, but if I did, last night added a check box to the list. Two boxes, actually.

One: Date a musician
Two: Break that musician’s heart so he can write a depressingly sweet love song about me

I clearly went to a show last night. It was friend of a friend-Trey Lockerbie, he was opening for Joe Firstman.

Both were angelic, and both singer/songwriters- the best kind. They moved back and forth from guitar to piano, holding strong a serene [sexy] voice on each. You could see it in their closed eyes – they were so connected to their music, as they sang of broken hearts and happy hearts, open hearts and weary hearts.

Of any of all of those heart conditions, I wanted to be the cause.

From Joe’s song, Pretty Things (an awesome song, take a listen)
I’ve been reading all the letters that you wrote me
All the fairy tales you’ve sold me, and all the pretty things you said.
Can’t stop thinking ‘bout the way that you control me, and how you wish you’d never known me
How I wish you’d come and hold me, hold me, hold me.

From Trey’s song, Sullivan Street:
Well we looked like two lovers on a Bob Dylan cover
Soaked to the bone leaning into each other
And the warmth of her smile was unfamiliar to me
Just like the sidewalks on Sullivan Street
Why, oh why is it every time that I fall in love, I lose my mind?
When I’m searching for answers to questions inside, but it’s only more questions I find.

Anyways, I want to be that mysterious girl, sitting lonesome in an entranced crowd, in support of the performing soul she’d once mesmerized and torn apart, whatever the circumstances. I want to be someone’s first single, the inspiration of their misery-turned-chart-topper, the painfully soothing scratch in their voice.

Sometimes I think I torture myself when I go to these kinds of shows. I fall in temporary love with any buffoon standing in front of me holding a guitar with his heart oozing at his fingertips.

Case in point: After the show, we went to a bar that had live music as well – a little more amateur of an environment – but there was a curly-haired man, rather large as well, singing the quintessential cover songs that always gets the crowd feeling folky. I fell in love with him too, though without a guitar, I’d liken his sex appeal to that of Zach Galifinakas.

Okay, that’s a little exaggerative, but still – I just can’t wrap my head around how love-struck a few plucks could make a girl, and how it always turns out in such beautiful-sounding heartache.

Anyways, it’s on the hypothetical boy bucket list now, shall be checked some day…