There are a bunch of stories about Johnny and June and the crazy twists and turns of their relationship.
One of them talks about crazy he would make her because as she would begin to feel close to him and think about connecting he would do things that would infuriate her.
She would wonder if it was intentional or if there was something about being male that made him blind.
Once she told him that all he had to do was keep his mouth shut and she would come running back. He had laughed and said that she didn’t want a mute and that neither one of them knew how to do that and when she smiled he knew she agreed.
Later on he told her that when she was gone he wondered if maybe she didn’t care as much and that he wished he could just pretend he felt nothing.
She had rolled her eyes at him and told him he was an idiot. They both smiled and held hands and stared out at the sunset.
There was another tale of a time when they were on tour together but not talking.
They’d ride the bus, sing their songs on stage and go their separate ways.
One night he got drunk and a made a comment that set her off and he got more than an earful in return.
She laid into him and he yelled back that he wasn’t a mind reader and she stormed off.
Later that night when he lay in bed desperate to talk to her but unwilling to let her know he thought about how it sometimes felt like they shared a heart.
Thought about how they could say soul mate one day and then roll their eyes the next like it never had truth.
Must be some sort of lock upon those things and if you could find the right key you would be set.
He caught her staring at him a bunch of times and wondered what was going on.
Sometimes she glared and sometimes she smiled but she never said anything and since pride wouldn’t let him make the first move he stayed silent.
Sat there and wondered how long the nonsense would go on for this time.
There were moments where he thought about just kissing her. Wouldn’t say a word, would just walk up, grab her and kiss her.
The poets would talk about that and write verses about the electric shock that would hit them both.
It would be magic and she would melt.
Or she would slap him and call it assault.
So he did nothing more than think about it and occasionally send it out thoughts.
“Woman, if you really want to know what is going on you are going to have to reach out or make me feel comfortable reaching out. I have done what I can do.”
Years later when the biographers asked them if June had ever confirmed whether she could hear his thoughts they got a smile.
They pressed for words and got “I knew what I needed and what I needed him to do.”
Again they pressed for more detail and this time he responded, “every time I think I understand women and know what to something happens that makes me think I am a genius and an idiot.”
I am a simple man with simple needs. Don’t take that to mean I am stupid, because we’re not talking about intelligence either.”
And then he muttered something about a long and winding road and went silent.