What do you think
I would say at this moment?
When I'm faced with the knowledge
That you just don't love me?
-- Billy Vera & the Beaters, "At This Moment."
I couldn't do much of anything that Tuesday morning. She had said goodbye, as she chatted from her new boyfriend's house in his - their - hometown. She loves the city, and she's in love with him. It hurts to say that. To type that. And especially to know that.
There was a time I thought she was the one. She knows that much. I can remember the day we were on the phone, talking about what our wedding would be like: I'd come in surrounded by Scottish bagpipe players, proud, happy, not to mention confusing the hell out of my parents and the guests. But the reality is, she's happy now, and that's all I ever wanted for her.
Regardless of all this, she and I have talked and agreed to at least try to remain friends. This will be hard, at first, but I'm confident we can make it work.
Before our friendship could resume, though, I had to pay my final respects to our relationship, to what I described to her as the happiest month of my life. Some friends and I agreed to meet at our Tuesday night karaoke joint.
By the time the first of them, Brian, came in, around 10 p.m., I was on the last chorus of "The Dance," by Garth Brooks. It was the second time in a week I'd recited that chorus. The first was on the phone with her a day earlier, when I knew it was over. She wished aloud she'd never come into the chatroom where we met and fell in love, because both our lives would've gone smoother as a result. But then we'd never have given so much to each other. And presumably, neither of us would've hurt the other. All I could do was quote the song:
I would've missed the pain
But I would've had to miss the dance
And on stage, just like on the phone, I started tearing up. Normally, the barflies and hams that frequent your average karaoke bar applaud blindly at everybody, but this time I think the ones close to the stage noticed the words sticking in my throat.
"It's a rough song," the DJ said to me. I walked offstage and joined my friends and told them what the night meant to me.
About an hour and two rum and cokes later, when the bar was just about packed, it was time for the second song: "At This Moment," the one quoted above. As soon as she broke up with me, this song came to mind.
Like a lot of good '80s stuff, I suspect, "At This Moment" is one of those songs that most people really only recognize when you hear it. I really didn't know if she had, though as big as an '80s fan as she was, it seemed a good bet. In any case, I knew I had to sing it, in that silly way anybody who's done karaoke "knows" what songs they need to do.
I'd love to tell you that I belted it totally on-key, but given how high Billy Vera's voice is, that may be a lie. But it really doesn't matter when you just wish she was there to hear them, and you're trying just to get through it without tearing up again. So I never really heard any applause when I finished the song and walked off, whispering the little prayer I used to say every night when we were together: I love you .... Goodbye.
My friends and I hung around the bar until about 1 a.m. We toasted to old loves and new, to friends tried and true. Just before leaving, one more song: "Sad Songs Say So Much," by Elton John. Maybe I did it to turn the page to myself. Can't say I remember what prompted me to go up again. All I really do remember is Alan joining me onstage on the chorus midway through the song, which made me laugh despite myself, which was maybe what he wanted to do.
The night felt lighter as we walked back to our cars. It started raining almost immediately, softly, though steadily, and I smiled. Maybe somebody was forgiving me.
EPILOGUE: I still talk to her, even after some people have suggested I tell her to go to hell. But to do that would be to reject everything we had shared, and to turn my back on a friend. And that's something I will never do, not when she's happy and in love.
But this much is true -- Tomorrow I will go to a wedding reception. And sometime during the night, between the dances, the bouquet tosses and the bubbly, there will be a moment when the noise fades away. And somewhere in the distance, I'll hear bagpipes playing.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Credits for the lyrics should go to:
Radish's Little Collection of '80s Lyrics
Other Stories and Links
To Be Read At My Wedding Day
Another Day
The Janitor
My First Friend's Wedding
