TWELVE
Tuesday. 6:45pm. Meet and Greet.
We're late on the meet and greet. We have fifteen minutes to deal with this group and I went and made it four people larger. I wish I would think things through before I act sometimes.
It makes it all worth it when she walks through the door, though, in her tight blue jeans and her black, sequined tank top. I don't care if anyone notices me smiling. And I realize I'm spending a great deal of the small amount of time we have talking with her and her friends, but I don't care about that, either.
The fifteen minutes are over fast and I make extra sure she is standing beside me for the group picture. I'm noticing that I'm throwing caution to the wind more and more freely. I'm gonna need to take a moment to recollect and get my shit together.
______________________________________________
Tuesday. 9:45pm. Concert.
It's been nearly three hours since I saw her last and I'm more than anxious to take the stage. My brothers are convinced that I'm back to normal now and everything seems to be okay with them. Though I don't see why they would ever think I'm NOT normal. It's not like I've changed or anything. I think they're just paranoid.
We have an awesome show tonight. SHE is there, front row, with her friends. I'm happy. She's happy. Her friends are happy.
My brothers are happy. Everybody's happy. It's a fantastic show.
________________________________________________
Wednesday. Midnight. Reality.
Eagerly anticipating seeing her one more time before the bus leaves, I freshen myself up and hear my cell phone go off. It's my voicemail. I've been offstage for fifteen minutes, how did I not hear my phone ring?
I check the message and my heart sinks. It's my wife, and she never calls this late so it must be important.
I call her back and my heart sinks even more. She's had to take one of our kids to the ER due to high fever. Apparently there's an illness going around back home. I'm concerned for my son and that's where I choose to focus all my attention.
I completely forget about meeting fans outside until I see Ike and Zac exit the bus, one at a time. But I can't go. Not this time. Not
while my son is currently in the hospital.
I ask my wife if I need to come home. Because I will. I'll hop a plane tonight if I have to. But she assures me that the doctor says
he'll be fine and should be discharged within a couple of hours after some observation.
I ask to speak to my son. Poor little guy. My heart goes out to him and I hate myself for not being there with him right now. It's the
only thing I hate about my job. I'm his father. He needs me. I should be there for these things.
I don't realize how long I've been on the phone until I see Ike and Zac board the bus again. As I wrap up my phone call, Ike looks at me, concerned. "Everything okay?"
I tell him about my son, his nephew, and he hands me a beer. It's appreciated and I need it. When the bus begins to move, I realize what I've just missed.
______________________________________________
Wednesday. 1:49am. Bunk.
I hold my cell phone in my hand, staring at the screen. On one hand, I'm extremely heartbroken about my son. But then there's the small part of me that feels guilty about skipping out on HER. Does that make me a bastard? A monster?
I'm pretty sure it does.
As I lay there and ponder whether I should text her or not, my phone vibrates. It's HER. "So what happened to you?"
I stare at my phone. I can't believe I'm hesitating, but seriously, I don't know if I have the heart to answer her right now. Actually, I don't even know if I have a heart at all at this point.
But I want to think of her as my friend, regardless of the other stuff. So I answer her. "Family stuff sprung up last second. Son went to the ER. High fever."
She texts back. "I'm so sorry to hear that."
"Thank you," I text back to her. "He's fine. Doctor prescribed meds."
"Sucks you can't be there."
"I'm aware."
"Okay. Well I'll let you go to sleep. I'm sure you're tired."
I read this and feel like an asshole. I should follow her direction, though, because she's right. But in spite of myself, I text her back. "You don't have to."
"Are you sure? You seem like you've had a rough night."
I smile at her concern. It's nice of her. "I have. But it's nice to talk. To have a distraction."
"I'll help if I can. It's what friends do, you know?"
"Friends, huh?"
"Sure. We are friends, right? I mean, I know in the beginning I didn't want to get personal and stuff. But I like you."
"And you want to be my friend?"
"Well don't you want to be mine?"
I immediately find multiple possible meanings in her question, but I know what she means. And with the way I'm feeling now, I'm pretty sure a friend is what I need. I smile weakly as I text her. "Yeah. Sure. I definitely want to be your friend."
She texts me a smiley.
"So, friend," I text back. "Do friends frequently have inappropriate thoughts about each other?"
"These friends do."
"Are you coming to another show?"
"Don't know."
"I'm sorry I stood you up out there."
"I admit, I did wait and I was a little disappointed. But given your reason, you're forgiven."
"Thank you. But I'm still sorry. We should plan to meet again."
"Let's take this slow," she texts. "If you really respect me, you'll slow your roll a little bit."
I stare at her text. That's not what I wanted to see on my screen. Slow my roll? I can't get enough of her anymore. What am I supposed to do?
But I want to respect her. I don't want to scare her off. I've run too many risks already. And I need her. This tour has
been--different. No doubt because of me and because of her. But I'm in too deep now. I can't finish this tour without her. After all my recent shenanigans, I owe it to her to try. And I still want to know her better.
"Are you there?" she texts.
"Yeah. Sorry. I can try to take it slower. I mean, I know nothing can happen with us, but I understand what you mean. I'll try to do
better."
"Thank you. And, Tay? Now that we're friends, will you do me a favor?"
I smile. "Anything."
"Next time you get some time off, will you go see a doctor?"
I stare at my phone, completely stunned. I must be imagining this. I have to be. "Excuse me?" I text back.
"I mean, I care about you. And if you're having the kind of headaches you complained about today, maybe you should get it checked out."
I have no idea how to feel right now. My first emotion is fury. Right off the bat. I WANT to be touched at her concern, but that emotion is masked by fury. I need to end this conversation before I say something I'm gonna regret. "I gotta go."
"Don't be mad."
"I'm not. I'm just sleepy."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure."
"Okay."
I sigh. I'm such an asshole. Why do I have to be such an asshole? "Thanks for being there," I text, trying to smooth things over.
"Anytime," she texts back.
______________________________________________
Friday. 10:04am. Bus.
I haven't spoken to her in two days. As a matter of fact, I haven't even been on my phone. Well, not on my social media, that is. It's
funny because it's usually the other way around. The difference is, she hasn't blown up my phone or my email wondering where I am.
My son is fine. I have spent the last two days on my phone checking up on him, making sure he's okay. Things like this happen to kids. And he definitely isn't the first of my kids it's happened to. But that doesn't make each time any less scary.
But what's totally bothering me is my last text conversation with HER. And how she wants me to see a doctor. The whole thing is really bizarre. I mean, does she really have the right to recommend that I see a doctor? Despite what she and I have done, the truth is, she really doesn't KNOW me. I think, more than anything, I take offense to her suggestion. I thought she was on my side?
On my side of what, though? I'll admit, I've been having this constant feeling of me against the world lately. Pretty sure it stems from
the guilt of my illicit affair, a feeling I have yet to actually FEEL, but still a feeling I can't shake. As a matter of fact, I thought it would get better, but it's honestly only getting worse. Maybe I AM really starting to feel guilty...
This morning we did an early radio show in the city we're doing this concert in tonight. I don't know where the hell I am. Somewhere in California? Anyway, we were up with the chickens this morning and right now all we want to do is get a nap in before the walk. Sleep is coming faster than normal today, but it's not without a full mind.
____________________________________________
Monday. 12:34am. Canada.
We did our first show of our Canadian leg tonight. It was pretty cool. The walk was rainy and the weather was crap, but it was still a good day.
I still haven't spoken to HER. She hasn't contacted me. But now I'm getting a little curious. Sure, she kinda pissed me off last week, but I can't stay away.
Laying in my bunk, I pull up the app and sigh. I haven't been on in almost a week. I have a lot of shit to weed through. Canadian fans loved the show. This girl spouts off weird, random shit every other post. This girl's husband is a closet fan. All the usual stuff. Finally I find a post from HER from earlier today. "What do you do when you're pretty sure you've ruined a new friendship by being too forward?"
I throw my head back on my pillow and rub my eyes. I want to throw my phone against the wall. I'm tired of this. I don't want her to feel this way. I should have confronted her right then instead of dodging and avoiding her.
I force myself to keep reading. "What did you say?" someone replies.
"I suggested he see a doctor."
"Does he need to see one?" someone else asks.
"I'm not really sure. The friendship is still kinda new. I think I overstepped my boundaries. He stopped talking to me. I think I scared him off."
This is unbelievable. She knows I'm reading this. She knows it. What kind of game is this?
"Have you tried talking to him?" the same person asks.
"No."
"Then how do you know the friendship is over?" I want to hug this girl. I want to meet this girl and hug her.
All this took place six hours ago. What do I do now? Do I play our usual internet games? Or do I text her?
I decide on internet games, mostly because I'm pretty sure Canada is considered international and I don't want to charge her phone plan by being selfish.
So I take to Instagram. I take a selfie in my bunk, nearly blinding myself, and I upload it with the caption, "Tour bus bunk. The definition of loneliness." I try to be lighthearted about it. I know I'll get a million comments from a million "concerned" fans. But there's only one I care about. I close my eyes and prepare for sleep in anticipation of her response.
_________________________________________________________
Monday. 9:22am. Awake.
I actually slept last night. I'm kinda shocked. Normally anything that has to do with HER makes me toss and turn, but last night I
actually rested. I'm in a better mood this morning than I have been in awhile. It's kinda odd, considering the circumstances, but I'd rather enjoy it than question it.
As I have my coffee, I go through my usual social media routine. App, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram. Nothing. Not a single thing. But
then suddenly my email alert goes off and I can't seem to open it fast enough. It's HER, but the funny thing is, I don't remember giving her my personal email address...did I?
I decide it doesn't matter. The point is, she's emailed me. Why the hell didn't I think of email last night when I decided to take that stupid picture? My heart races as I open the new message, having no idea what I'm in for.
"I apologize for offending you last time we texted, but I do not apologize for suggesting you see a doctor. I suggested that out of concern and I still stand by it. While I enjoy playing our little internet games, maybe this subject isn't something we should play internet games over. Let's just leave those for fun, shall we? I don't know what you're feeling or what you're thinking, or even if you're choosing to read this, but just know that I didn't go anywhere. I didn't contact you because I thought you needed space. You seemed to be under a little pressure. I did it out of respect. You chose not to contact me, either, so I assumed you were either respecting me or were stewing over our conversation. I wouldn't know. However your little Instagram stunt could have been avoided by sending me an email. So here I am making the first move. I'll be honest, I'm not really sure if I'm angry at you or not. I'm not really sure what I feel. But in spite of myself, I do still care. So, you just take care of yourself."
She signed off and that was all she wrote. Literally.
I read her email again. And again. And again. And again. And then I move it to my saved mail and I sign out of my account. I need to think this through before I choose to respond. Because at this point, I have no idea what the hell to say to her.
Tuesday. 6:45pm. Meet and Greet.
We're late on the meet and greet. We have fifteen minutes to deal with this group and I went and made it four people larger. I wish I would think things through before I act sometimes.
It makes it all worth it when she walks through the door, though, in her tight blue jeans and her black, sequined tank top. I don't care if anyone notices me smiling. And I realize I'm spending a great deal of the small amount of time we have talking with her and her friends, but I don't care about that, either.
The fifteen minutes are over fast and I make extra sure she is standing beside me for the group picture. I'm noticing that I'm throwing caution to the wind more and more freely. I'm gonna need to take a moment to recollect and get my shit together.
______________________________________________
Tuesday. 9:45pm. Concert.
It's been nearly three hours since I saw her last and I'm more than anxious to take the stage. My brothers are convinced that I'm back to normal now and everything seems to be okay with them. Though I don't see why they would ever think I'm NOT normal. It's not like I've changed or anything. I think they're just paranoid.
We have an awesome show tonight. SHE is there, front row, with her friends. I'm happy. She's happy. Her friends are happy.
My brothers are happy. Everybody's happy. It's a fantastic show.
________________________________________________
Wednesday. Midnight. Reality.
Eagerly anticipating seeing her one more time before the bus leaves, I freshen myself up and hear my cell phone go off. It's my voicemail. I've been offstage for fifteen minutes, how did I not hear my phone ring?
I check the message and my heart sinks. It's my wife, and she never calls this late so it must be important.
I call her back and my heart sinks even more. She's had to take one of our kids to the ER due to high fever. Apparently there's an illness going around back home. I'm concerned for my son and that's where I choose to focus all my attention.
I completely forget about meeting fans outside until I see Ike and Zac exit the bus, one at a time. But I can't go. Not this time. Not
while my son is currently in the hospital.
I ask my wife if I need to come home. Because I will. I'll hop a plane tonight if I have to. But she assures me that the doctor says
he'll be fine and should be discharged within a couple of hours after some observation.
I ask to speak to my son. Poor little guy. My heart goes out to him and I hate myself for not being there with him right now. It's the
only thing I hate about my job. I'm his father. He needs me. I should be there for these things.
I don't realize how long I've been on the phone until I see Ike and Zac board the bus again. As I wrap up my phone call, Ike looks at me, concerned. "Everything okay?"
I tell him about my son, his nephew, and he hands me a beer. It's appreciated and I need it. When the bus begins to move, I realize what I've just missed.
______________________________________________
Wednesday. 1:49am. Bunk.
I hold my cell phone in my hand, staring at the screen. On one hand, I'm extremely heartbroken about my son. But then there's the small part of me that feels guilty about skipping out on HER. Does that make me a bastard? A monster?
I'm pretty sure it does.
As I lay there and ponder whether I should text her or not, my phone vibrates. It's HER. "So what happened to you?"
I stare at my phone. I can't believe I'm hesitating, but seriously, I don't know if I have the heart to answer her right now. Actually, I don't even know if I have a heart at all at this point.
But I want to think of her as my friend, regardless of the other stuff. So I answer her. "Family stuff sprung up last second. Son went to the ER. High fever."
She texts back. "I'm so sorry to hear that."
"Thank you," I text back to her. "He's fine. Doctor prescribed meds."
"Sucks you can't be there."
"I'm aware."
"Okay. Well I'll let you go to sleep. I'm sure you're tired."
I read this and feel like an asshole. I should follow her direction, though, because she's right. But in spite of myself, I text her back. "You don't have to."
"Are you sure? You seem like you've had a rough night."
I smile at her concern. It's nice of her. "I have. But it's nice to talk. To have a distraction."
"I'll help if I can. It's what friends do, you know?"
"Friends, huh?"
"Sure. We are friends, right? I mean, I know in the beginning I didn't want to get personal and stuff. But I like you."
"And you want to be my friend?"
"Well don't you want to be mine?"
I immediately find multiple possible meanings in her question, but I know what she means. And with the way I'm feeling now, I'm pretty sure a friend is what I need. I smile weakly as I text her. "Yeah. Sure. I definitely want to be your friend."
She texts me a smiley.
"So, friend," I text back. "Do friends frequently have inappropriate thoughts about each other?"
"These friends do."
"Are you coming to another show?"
"Don't know."
"I'm sorry I stood you up out there."
"I admit, I did wait and I was a little disappointed. But given your reason, you're forgiven."
"Thank you. But I'm still sorry. We should plan to meet again."
"Let's take this slow," she texts. "If you really respect me, you'll slow your roll a little bit."
I stare at her text. That's not what I wanted to see on my screen. Slow my roll? I can't get enough of her anymore. What am I supposed to do?
But I want to respect her. I don't want to scare her off. I've run too many risks already. And I need her. This tour has
been--different. No doubt because of me and because of her. But I'm in too deep now. I can't finish this tour without her. After all my recent shenanigans, I owe it to her to try. And I still want to know her better.
"Are you there?" she texts.
"Yeah. Sorry. I can try to take it slower. I mean, I know nothing can happen with us, but I understand what you mean. I'll try to do
better."
"Thank you. And, Tay? Now that we're friends, will you do me a favor?"
I smile. "Anything."
"Next time you get some time off, will you go see a doctor?"
I stare at my phone, completely stunned. I must be imagining this. I have to be. "Excuse me?" I text back.
"I mean, I care about you. And if you're having the kind of headaches you complained about today, maybe you should get it checked out."
I have no idea how to feel right now. My first emotion is fury. Right off the bat. I WANT to be touched at her concern, but that emotion is masked by fury. I need to end this conversation before I say something I'm gonna regret. "I gotta go."
"Don't be mad."
"I'm not. I'm just sleepy."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure."
"Okay."
I sigh. I'm such an asshole. Why do I have to be such an asshole? "Thanks for being there," I text, trying to smooth things over.
"Anytime," she texts back.
______________________________________________
Friday. 10:04am. Bus.
I haven't spoken to her in two days. As a matter of fact, I haven't even been on my phone. Well, not on my social media, that is. It's
funny because it's usually the other way around. The difference is, she hasn't blown up my phone or my email wondering where I am.
My son is fine. I have spent the last two days on my phone checking up on him, making sure he's okay. Things like this happen to kids. And he definitely isn't the first of my kids it's happened to. But that doesn't make each time any less scary.
But what's totally bothering me is my last text conversation with HER. And how she wants me to see a doctor. The whole thing is really bizarre. I mean, does she really have the right to recommend that I see a doctor? Despite what she and I have done, the truth is, she really doesn't KNOW me. I think, more than anything, I take offense to her suggestion. I thought she was on my side?
On my side of what, though? I'll admit, I've been having this constant feeling of me against the world lately. Pretty sure it stems from
the guilt of my illicit affair, a feeling I have yet to actually FEEL, but still a feeling I can't shake. As a matter of fact, I thought it would get better, but it's honestly only getting worse. Maybe I AM really starting to feel guilty...
This morning we did an early radio show in the city we're doing this concert in tonight. I don't know where the hell I am. Somewhere in California? Anyway, we were up with the chickens this morning and right now all we want to do is get a nap in before the walk. Sleep is coming faster than normal today, but it's not without a full mind.
____________________________________________
Monday. 12:34am. Canada.
We did our first show of our Canadian leg tonight. It was pretty cool. The walk was rainy and the weather was crap, but it was still a good day.
I still haven't spoken to HER. She hasn't contacted me. But now I'm getting a little curious. Sure, she kinda pissed me off last week, but I can't stay away.
Laying in my bunk, I pull up the app and sigh. I haven't been on in almost a week. I have a lot of shit to weed through. Canadian fans loved the show. This girl spouts off weird, random shit every other post. This girl's husband is a closet fan. All the usual stuff. Finally I find a post from HER from earlier today. "What do you do when you're pretty sure you've ruined a new friendship by being too forward?"
I throw my head back on my pillow and rub my eyes. I want to throw my phone against the wall. I'm tired of this. I don't want her to feel this way. I should have confronted her right then instead of dodging and avoiding her.
I force myself to keep reading. "What did you say?" someone replies.
"I suggested he see a doctor."
"Does he need to see one?" someone else asks.
"I'm not really sure. The friendship is still kinda new. I think I overstepped my boundaries. He stopped talking to me. I think I scared him off."
This is unbelievable. She knows I'm reading this. She knows it. What kind of game is this?
"Have you tried talking to him?" the same person asks.
"No."
"Then how do you know the friendship is over?" I want to hug this girl. I want to meet this girl and hug her.
All this took place six hours ago. What do I do now? Do I play our usual internet games? Or do I text her?
I decide on internet games, mostly because I'm pretty sure Canada is considered international and I don't want to charge her phone plan by being selfish.
So I take to Instagram. I take a selfie in my bunk, nearly blinding myself, and I upload it with the caption, "Tour bus bunk. The definition of loneliness." I try to be lighthearted about it. I know I'll get a million comments from a million "concerned" fans. But there's only one I care about. I close my eyes and prepare for sleep in anticipation of her response.
_________________________________________________________
Monday. 9:22am. Awake.
I actually slept last night. I'm kinda shocked. Normally anything that has to do with HER makes me toss and turn, but last night I
actually rested. I'm in a better mood this morning than I have been in awhile. It's kinda odd, considering the circumstances, but I'd rather enjoy it than question it.
As I have my coffee, I go through my usual social media routine. App, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram. Nothing. Not a single thing. But
then suddenly my email alert goes off and I can't seem to open it fast enough. It's HER, but the funny thing is, I don't remember giving her my personal email address...did I?
I decide it doesn't matter. The point is, she's emailed me. Why the hell didn't I think of email last night when I decided to take that stupid picture? My heart races as I open the new message, having no idea what I'm in for.
"I apologize for offending you last time we texted, but I do not apologize for suggesting you see a doctor. I suggested that out of concern and I still stand by it. While I enjoy playing our little internet games, maybe this subject isn't something we should play internet games over. Let's just leave those for fun, shall we? I don't know what you're feeling or what you're thinking, or even if you're choosing to read this, but just know that I didn't go anywhere. I didn't contact you because I thought you needed space. You seemed to be under a little pressure. I did it out of respect. You chose not to contact me, either, so I assumed you were either respecting me or were stewing over our conversation. I wouldn't know. However your little Instagram stunt could have been avoided by sending me an email. So here I am making the first move. I'll be honest, I'm not really sure if I'm angry at you or not. I'm not really sure what I feel. But in spite of myself, I do still care. So, you just take care of yourself."
She signed off and that was all she wrote. Literally.
I read her email again. And again. And again. And again. And then I move it to my saved mail and I sign out of my account. I need to think this through before I choose to respond. Because at this point, I have no idea what the hell to say to her.