I promised my girl I'll be there with her tonight.
She was mending the bikers's lost soul outside a local bar when I first met her and she was that type of chilling witch you would never offend. Her wavy ginger hair looked fancy in a white T-shirt and checkered skirt under the spotlight. Little flirty and very sexy.
I was at the pub getting drunk as she sat next to me and ordered a beer. I lied on the icy marble desk where she stroked my hair like my mom used to, the sensation of being caressed kept my emotion at bay. I was a kitten treated right, a puppy deemed worthy.
As I sat up slowly when her hand left me completely, I stared at her with my dreamy eyes and greedy needs. She said to me in a hazy voice "Hey you." I didn't know what to say as my tongue struggled between the word 'Thanks' and 'Mom', or 'I love you'.
She grinned at me, showing her teeth in perfect condition. "Are you feeling better?" she said and put her hands on mine.
"Never better." I said, looking at her hands. She had such great nails.
"Why are you sad?"
"Because I can?"
"Because someone made you."
I thought about what she said, "Have we met?" Stupid question, I know.
"Not that I know of." She took the last sip of beer and exposed her firm neck and delicate bones to the surrounding.
She leaned forward and clung to my hands. She showed me sympathy, I returned her company.
We traveled around the states, always on the road, never settled for a place. She kept on giving out meds for the underground and underprivileged folks while I sidetracked about peacing off the girl scouts backstage with her.
The one year anniversary crept on the both of us, the day of remembrance was around the corner and we decided to go back, back to where we first met, the bar where I first saw her performances. Back then she thought I was the groupie, I reckoned she was just another pissed off girl scout searching for reasons to love.
I promised her I would be there after visiting my parents out of town. I had not told my folks a single thing about their daughter being gay, being a lesbian, being a fucking dyke like they said until that evening. We had a fight. We cried together. We hugged each other.
She opened the show at nine, already making a scene for the fans, I joined the crowd and cheered with them for her. The last song she performed was the one I heard the day we met, she dedicated it wholly to me. I melted as she gestured the heart to me and said she loves me.
We spent the night drinking while she stroked my bleached blonde hair.
"How did you know stroking my hair would make me feel better?"
"I don't know, but I just did." She giggled and danced and rocked the night away with me.
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