The Night I Met Her
I still feel awestruck when I think back to that night. I was on stage, the black velvet curtain raised, the band played, and as I howled, I saw her standing just feet in front of me. She was down there in the front row, her big, beautiful, curious brown eyes staring up at me as if I was awesome. This woman saw me in the way I could only dream of someone seeing me. And she was gorgeous to boot. I, for the first time in my life, understood what a soul mate looked and felt like. It happened to me. I won.I sang the entire concert to her that night – just her. The audience disappeared. Time stopped, and it was just the two of us seeing each other for the first time, again. I say again because she and I have been connected for what feels like eons. It’s new but familiar. After the show was over, I took her hand and led her backstage. Now alone with her, my heart raced, my words made no sense. I said, “Stay with me tonight. Forever.” She smiled. In this thick, beautiful, Italian accent she replied, “Amore, I wish I could, but I must go.My plane leaves for Italy early in the morning… I must go.”Bam! It felt like lightening had just pierced my soul. How could this be? I found her, the one I am suppose to marry. Anxious and nervous, I fumbled for my band’s CD and handed it to her. “Contact me, our website is on the back. Please,” I stammered. She looked at me with those sad brown eyes and said, “Certamente (certainly).” I then watched her walk down Melrose Boulevard that late Saturday night, feeling sad and yet still knowing, somehow, someway, we would be together again. Listen to the album.