Rob Doesn't Sing Well

But when he starts strumming his fingers along my fretboard and makes excuses for his less than perfect singing voice, I can't help but swoon a little. He plays the opening once twice, curses, catches himself, then sings the first verse and cuts straight to the chorus (which he fucks up). His voice breaks, his fingers fumble.

But oh, on those first few chords, when I recognize the song and remember the hints on the phone - "I'm working on a going away present for you." "Why'd you ever date me? I'm not a musician or a writer or a film maker." "I wish I could be creative for you." - my heart melts a little.

[To the tune of "Hey There, Delilah", by The Plain White-Ts.] "Hey there, Maria / You're leaving New York City / I'll be a thousand miles away / But girl, you'll still be the prettiest / girl in the world..."

The rhymes and meter aren't perfect, but in my bedroom, on a sweltering Sunday morning, with our clothes strewn on the floor and text messages clogging my cell phone, I'm in heaven.

This is what I've been waiting for.

Not just this moment of romantic persuasion, but the last few days. The culmination of my attempts to teach him how to communicate. The conversation we had in the shower when he spouted off philosophies and I stood, shocked, as I realized how humble and sincere and intelligent he is. The sex. OH, the sex...

I know I go back and forth about he and I. Maybe, if I didn't have my trust issues and he didn't have his honesty issues, and I wasn't so sure that I deserve The Best (and that he may not be it), and he wasn't so sure that I deserve The Best (and that he may not be it), we wouldn't constantly be in limbo.

But that's us.

There are times when he drives me crazy with his inability to articulate himself. There are times when he makes me cry out of sheer frustration because he can't pick up on what I need (even when I clearly articulate what I need). There are times when he reminds me that I can't trust in him to be Everything that I need.

But then he sings a song or philosophizes in the shower, and I realize that he's learning how to say what he feels. He gives me what I need long after I need it, and in the meantime I have the space to remain an independent, strong woman. He reminds me what it is to be human and flawed, and loves me fiercely despite my many very human flaws.

Last night was the first time we really communicated about important issues. I talked about my needs and my issues (with family, friends, lack of funds, et al.), and he voiced his concerns and opinions. I was surprised at how intelligent and heartfelt and sincere he sounded; I was also surprised at my reaction to his newfound articulation. He'd go off on a philosophical/anthropological/sociological tangent, and I'd be upset that the spotlight was off of me. I needed to talk, to vent, to reach conclusions - and I couldn't stand the thought that my ideas were being cut off by his ideas. I got frustrated that he was talking instead of listening.

The irony is, I've been complaining that he doesn't know how to articulate himself. The second he shows that he can articulate himself, I wish he would just shut up and wait till I'm done talking before he commented.

And maybe that's the problem. We haven't worked on our communication, and now I know that in order for us to talk, I have to talk. I have to get it all out, and then he can be his intelligent, articulate self. We'll both feel like we contributed to the conversation, and both of our feelings will be heard...

Two and a half years, and only NOW does this dawn on me.