The Song

We slowly drive through the streets of Old Town Scottsdale,
with no particular destination in mind.
He turns up the radio to a voice that shares his pain – a sad song,
a broken heart,
left empty to anguish.
She stole his attention awakening his deepest feelings of desire and love.
Every thought dwelled on her.
Every moment was to please her.
Compassion and concern nag at me, pulling tight,
like the tuning of strings on a violin.
I look at him with sorrow filled eyes, not knowing what to say.
Tender words won’t heal a wound so deep.
He smiles and says something funny,
attempting to hide the obvious with humor.
I laugh with him, blanketing my own sympathy and pity.
They say time is a healer. Is that all he needs?
A woman holds the power to break a man, leaving him bitter and scarred.
Then the anger sets in, deepening the scars, making them ugly.
The song plays over and over in his head, making him crazy.
But I am the one who is crazy, for believing one day the song will end.
Fear inside restrains me and so I pull away, looking out the window,
lost in my own thoughts.
We drive on in silence,
listening to the smooth voice coming from the radio.