One day, while preparing dinner, I sang loudly and slightly off-key to Lady Antebellum's Perfect Day and heard the story behind the lyrics. It wasn't long before I sat down behind my laptop to write it all up. Soon other songs followed and then some of my own. If you happen to stumble upon this blog looking for something unrelated, I hope you take the time to read, comment (be kind I'm a cancer!) and maybe even suggest a song to write about; you'd really make my day.

17 November 2011

Nelly and Connor's song

Nelly relished getting up in the morning. Getting up was so much better than going to sleep. Things were possible when you got up. Nights were not. They were for impossibilities. There was the impossibility to ignore her thoughts about him. The impossibility to fill the huge double bed. The impossibility adjusting to not feeling a warm body next to hers. The impossibility of being comforted by the sound of Connor’s regular breathing when he was asleep.  There just seemed to be no getting away from him at night. But the days, the days were great. They were fun-bloody-tastic without him. She looked at herself in the mirror, stupid grin on her face. In the bathroom she found the toilet seat down, room enough for all her soaps, salts and lotions, no wet towels thrown on the floor. And in ten minutes time she would eat buttered toast, without the horrid smell of bacon and eggs. Such a relief!
Warm water splashed on her head, soap ran down onto her toes. She replayed the events of the previous evening. It had been good, in fact for the last two weeks evenings in general had been good. She had gone out every single one of them, starting with dinners in fancy restaurants with friends Connor never approved of, then out clubbing and dancing, which Connor never liked doing. It was good to catch up with her friends enjoying all the things she did before him. It was good to do whatever she wanted with whomever she chose, without anyone moaning about it. She smiled and closed her eyes to begin doodling on the steamed up glass walls. As a child she started it, always surprising herself with the result. It was a small pleasure she had not given up during the Connor era. He had found it endearing, once.
Nelly opened her eyes. A picture of two people kissing... Oh, no! She remembered now. How could she have...?  Her hands covered her face. She felt so ashamed. It had been a drunken dare. Putting her arms around every boy she’d seen and snog their faces off. They reminded her of him. She sat down on the floor of the shower cubicle. Warm water running over her back, lonely tears rolling down her face.

That’s how her mum had found her. Nelly didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there. It had enveloped her, all of a sudden, the harsh truth. There was nothing she could do to take away her blues or the loneliness she felt without him there. “You’re like a bird without a song” mum said. Mum had a way with words, though she couldn’t really tell her where she’d gone wrong with Connor. “You just found living with him hard. Why don’t I make an appointment for you with Doctor Rogers?” As if the doctor could bring back Connor. “No, dear” mum had said patiently, “he can’t. But he might be able to give you some pills and make it easier to move on”. Nelly had been aghast, but she went anyway.
                She had always thought of Dr Rogers as a kind and understanding man. Once, when she was little she had to have a blood test. She had come out of the phlebotomist’s room kicking and screaming. She was so terrified in that small room with trolleys and shelves full of needles and glass tubes and a skeleton in the corner. The doctor had taken her into his cosy room, calmed her down with a story and a song until she felt brave enough for him to take the sample. Yes, Nelly thought, talking to him might help. It was her turn, his warm hand gently squeezed hers when he greeted her and she felt hopeful. He asked her how long it had been since she and Connor had split up. Nelly looked at her watch and replied: “Seven hours and fifteen days”.

Still fuming Nelly phoned her mother as soon as she got back home. “Guess what he told me?”, she raged. “He said girl you better try and have fun, no matter what you do. He’s a fool!” Nelly’s mum started to talk but no one was listening to what was being said on the other side of the line. Nelly was staring at the flowers in the garden. Connor had planted them for her. She had loved the surprise to find him in her garden one day, digging away. He had moved in the day after. The flowers had died when he had left. Why? Why? She sighed.  “Sorry, mum, I’ve got to go”.  She dialled Connor’s number and got through to his voicemail. Here goes nothing, she thought. “I know that living with you baby was sometimes hard, but I’m willing to give it another try. ’Cause nothing compares to you”.

SinĂ©ad O’Conner - Nothing compares 2 U
Songwriter: Prince Rogers Nelson