They’re All For You Really

He asked if I had any requests and I did but was nervous and couldn’t think of the name. I’d been anticipating seeing him since last Sunday and was having trouble putting words together. Later when I blurted out, “It’s called Soul Sister!” he obliged with a smile. At the end he kept playing, merging into a new song, Jason Mraz I’m Yours.

“This one’s for Jenny-san,” he said into the mic and over his guitar. Well you done done me and you bet I felt it / I tried to be chill but you’re so hot that I melted… And melt I did, right there at work in the middle of the café, while bussing tables.

He sang. I danced. We smiled across the room at each other. And then at the end he said to me… “They’re all for you really.”

I think I might have played it cool on the outside, but my insides tumbled into a tizzy of please oh please be true!

He plays every Sunday during the sunset barbeque. Opposite me in so many ways, dark skin, dark hair, he’s lived on this island his whole life. He leaves soon for a short tour playing traditional Hawaiian music in Japan, so no hope of seeing him until he’s back. One whole week until I see his sweet face again.

Maybe when he gets back he’ll ask me out. Maybe he’ll take me to the beach and teach me how to not be afraid of the ocean. Or maybe this is all it is, a lovely face and a lovely voice to brighten my Sundays and make me feel a little less alone.

Either way I get to keep a happy memory of a handsome and talented musician smiling at me, laughing with me, saying, “They’re all for you really.”

 

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