The Luckiest

I don't get many things right the first time
In fact, I am told that a lot
Now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls
Brought me here...

Ben Folds is a mad scientist on the piano. His hands rise and fall at such a frenzied pace that they appear independent of the rest of his body.  His appearance is that of a school boy, Coke bottle glasses and Chuck Taylor's deny the lyrical genius streaming from his lips.  I am rapt, struggling to not bound from my seat and storm the stage. Attempting, and failing, to bite back the lyrics threatening to escape my body.  Thoroughly consumed and entertained by a musical experience that I would later deem..."the best of my life."  

And where was I before the day
That I first saw your lovely face?
Now I see it everyday
And I know

That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest

Boy is there beside me and my best friends are somewhere in the bustling crowd and I know that we are all on a musical high right now.  It is a good night.  One where the smiles and laughter are as genuine as a child's and you desperately hope no one mentions the time, for the night is timeless.  Tomorrow is tomorrow, but tonight is well deserved and much appreciated. 

 What if I'd been born fifty years before you
In a house on a street where you lived?
Maybe I'd be outside as you passed on your bike
Would I know?

At dinner we share wine and lamb ravioli, we laugh at the waiter's mustache and bicker over what celebrity he resembles most. We're quiet, at times, lost in our own thoughts and then, catching each other's eyes, we laugh and resume conversation. We are the kind of friends who truly know what the other is made of. We all sit at this table carrying enough baggage to fill a freight train. Allowing each other, for a moment, to put it down and breathe.  

And in a white sea of eyes
I see one pair that I recognize
And I know

That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest

After the show we huddle in a dark corner of a local watering hole and the best friend and I share a few secrets, like middle school girls in the back of the bus.  We look at Boy, face illuminated by the candlelight, and I tell her, as if she doesn't know, how much I love him.  "I know", she says. "We all do."  Even at the tender age of thirty-three I need my best friend to confirm what I already know to be true.  She and I have weathered some storms and will go to our graves with the stories and experiences we've shared.  It is a good night. 

 

I love you more than I have ever found a way to say to you

Next door there's an old man who lived to his nineties
And one day passed away in his sleep
And his wife; she stayed for a couple of days
And passed away

I'm sorry, I know that's a strange way to tell you that I know we belong
That I know

That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest 

 

Good friends and good love is not easily found and kept these days. Just when you've found the right tune, the right note, you find that a key is missing from your piano. The song remains unfinished. My friends have often finished the song for me and for that I do feel I am the luckiest.