Lucy Giancola > Recent Status Updates

And I wanted to know every one of those bits. I wanted to put them all in songs. I wanted to match the inflections of his voice to notes on this piano, and I wanted to make love songs with all of them.

“I can weather storms, bird - I want to weather them. With you. Beside you. So we don’t have to do it alone.”

With a little help, and a little faith, and a little love — I could do anything.

“Here, you’re like poetry in motion.”

Good love songs made you want to fall in love. They held emotions, weight, memories. What was the point in feeling, in being, if I couldn’t anything with it?

It didn’t feel like falling the way you did when love was quick and exotic. No it felt like finding a song you hadn’t heard in years played on a jukebox in an old music hall.

And I wanted so much more. I wanted to fold my fingers through mine, and I wanted to tear out the space between us, and I wanted to lose myself in the colour of his eyes.

Feeling someone near you, what a comfort that could be - like a friend you’ve always known.

I studied his fade, the determination in his bright blue eyes. There was something just so lovely about the confidence he had in me, and I knew without a doubt that whatever song I gave him, he knew how to sing it. He would be able to understand every lyric, every note, down to its core.

“Shut up and just lean on me, okay? Because you can. I won’t betray your trust. I’m not that kind of person,” I told him. I promise.

To not have a person to lean on, someone to tell secrets to, someone to eat ice cream with after a breakup and watch shitty movies with and share inside jokes with.