God Only Knows

She told me she liked the original better and asked me why I chose this particular song to share with her.

I tell her to stop being a woman and her eyes narrow.

“What the hell does that mean.”

It is more of an accusation than a question. She wants to know if I am baiting and or insulting her but I don’t say anything. It is not because I am speechless or trying to start anything either.

I haven’t decided if I feel like tearing into this now. When I put the songs on I had no ulterior motive, I just wanted to share these two versions with her.

We both love music.

It is supposed to be fun but like many things this moment of fun comes with strings attached.

She puts a hand on my chest and pushes against it. She wants an answer and my silence isn’t making her more comfortable.

I get it.

There is an energy we share. It is electric and it has always been there. Sometimes that electricity is a flame that warms our hearts and feeds the fire that we share and sometimes it feels like it is consuming us.

She is not feeling the warm and cozy side now.

“If I tell you that you are over analyzing this and it is just something I thought you’d like you’ll think I am lying. You’ll listen to the lyrics and wonder if I am trying to send you a message. You’ll ask yourself if this is me trying to be clever but I don’t know where you’ll take that.

Maybe you’ll come up with another dumb list of reasons why you don’t think this works. Or maybe you’ll admit you don’t really want me to go away but you won’t say anything because you think I need to pursue you. You’ll want me to come after you to reassure yourself that I am not going anywhere.

Or maybe it is none of those things I am just really fucking angry so you ought to tread carefully around me.”

She doesn’t take a moment to weigh her words or consider her thoughts. She blasts me and tells me I have no reason to be angry with her because she has been straight with me.

I tell her she hasn’t been straight with me or with herself and she is acting like a fucking idiot. For a moment there is silence because I rarely speak that way to her and she doesn’t quite know how to respond.

“If I put my hand on your chest and pushed against you I’d be told to stop. You’d say we can’t do that now, it is too aggressive and give me some stupid fucking reason why you are not going to sleep with me now.

But you don’t see the double fucking standard that women seem to ignore. The one where you think it is ok to lay your hands upon me and I am supposed to just let it happen.”

She yells at me and tells me why she thinks I am acting like an idiot.

I feel like she has challenged me and start walking forward. She moves backwards and now her back is against the wall and my face is inches from hers.

“I am not afraid of you. Big tough man going to push me up against the wall.”

“I didn’t push you. I didn’t touch you. You moved of your own volition. Not because I did anything.”

There is a moment of silence and I am not sure where this is going. We are both heated. I put my hand on the wall.

“What is that supposed to mean. You going to keep me pinned here. You going to show us how tough you are by making me do what you want.”

I am silent for a moment and she takes that as an excuse to keep going.

“C’mon tough guy, make up your mind.”

I tell her to turn around and face the wall and she does.

Cops would recognize this position. Suspect facing the wall, palms flat against it, legs slightly spread, except most suspects aren’t in sun dresses.

Is she trying to goad me into taking her or is this something far different.

God only knows.

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