When J and I started dating, music was one of those things we bonded over, instantly. We’d drive around campus, music blaring, singing at the tops of our lungs. He was the first boyfriend I ever let myself sing in front of.
The other night, I told him I wanted to learn guitar. I played violin in middle school (not that I remember any of it), so I figured I might pick it up quickly. J has played guitar for longer than I’ve known him, and I decided he’d be a good teacher. So, we sat on the end of the couch … his arms were wrapped around mine. He started from the beginning: teaching me how to hold the guitar, the basics of strumming & rhythm, and then we tried singing. As soon as I started singing, I’d lose rhythm. So … he took over the guitar. We played some of our favorite songs. He strummed, we sang. Together. It was the first time I really sang in front of him with no music in the background. It was a beautiful moment. Of course, I felt a little dumb, as I’m not a singer. But, in that room, it didn’t matter.
Six years after our days of driving around campus, listening to music, we’re still singing together. We are happy.