L.Williamson: Wild Love, Pt.2 Moving On

Leah had always felt connected to music in a way that seemed silly to others. Whether it was a song that could manage to make her hips sway on her darkest days or one that could turn her anger into motivation, she truly felt that music had the power to change the world.

And so, it wasn't surprising that she was at a star-studded event that night or that when the guest singer took to the stage, she felt completely overwhelmed by the emotions that washed over her at the hands of the words he was singing. She didn't know it as the song began but the words would hit her heart so deeply that they would spell out the ending of your arrangement, breaking both of your hearts.

Don't know what to say to you now.

That line brought her right back to that very first meeting she had with you. She hadn't been able to take her eyes off you as you'd handed out awards at the Stonewall event, leaving her in no doubt that she had to speak to you. She had the interaction so well planned in her head until she spotted a ring on your wedding finger. You'd worn your mum's wedding ring since the day she died, promising to only ever take it off when it was being replaced with one of your own.

Standing right in front of you.

You'd smiled at her, giving your head that little "are you going to speak?" wobble in the least aggressive way. That smile did something to her heart that she couldn't explain. She felt like hers was trying to speak to yours, but then she realised how ridiculous that idea was.

Don't know how to fade in and out.

In the dimly lit room, she found herself grappling with the right words to say. As hard as she tried, her eyes seemed to disobey her orders as they repeatedly wandered to your wedding band. She wasn't sure how she hadn't noticed it when you were on stage, accepting that she was most likely too lost in your eyes to pay attention to the awards she had come for. As she softly muttered incoherent words to you, a playful chuckle escaped your lips as you noticed her gaze fixated on your ring finger.

"It's my mum's. Was my mum's." You assured her."I'm so sorry. I didn't realise.""So, now you know I'm not married, do you think you could have a conversation with me?"

Don't know how to play it cool.

As the singer sang the next line, Leah was transported back to the first time the two of you had kissed. She wasn't proud of how it happened, a drunken, slop kiss against the wall of your kitchen.

When you first met, she had been so sure that the two of you could be something special, but her huge bravado had encouraged her to give off the impression that she was some kind of player, and you'd come to expect that she would be all about sneaking around and late-night hook-ups. In a twist of fate, she had unwittingly entangled the two of you in a situationship she had never intended to create.

Lose a little guard, let it down.

Letting down her guard came easy with you, but letting you know she'd let it down? Impossible. Maybe you'd have known that she was in love with you if she'd told you about those nights. Those 3am calls that you got weren't always at the hands of a drunken Leah. In fact, most of those nights she'd been stone cold sober, holding her nose to take a shot before she left an event to make sure you would smell alcohol on her breath and believe her story of I just called because I'm drunk and horny. And you did. You did because you loved her, trusting every word that left her mouth.

We don't have to think it through.

That line hit the hardest. Suddenly, Leah was back there. She was in your living room as you asked her the question: what're we doing here? She remembered the hopeful look on your face, one that her own paranoia had led her to believe was you trying to tell her that you could sense she was getting feelings that you could reciprocate. So she hit you with the we don't have to think about that right now line. Her biggest regret.

We've got to let go.

She felt that. That very night, when she'd shrugged off the opportunity to tell you how she felt, she'd felt your grip on her loosen both physically and metaphorically. Within hours, you'd begun to take time replying to her messages; within days, she'd had her first brush off from you at 3am, and within weeks, she'd noticed that you no longer rolled over in your sleep to hold her when you spent the night together.

I wanna give you wild love.

As she listened to the artist sing his lyrics with such conviction, she'd sworn to herself that she was seeing you that night. The very fact that you were the only person in her mind when she heard lyrics like that proved to her that it truly was only ever going to be you.

The kind that never slows down.

But what if it had to? What if she had to slow down and rethink this? She could text you and ask you if she could come over with the best intentions. Deep down, though, she knew that it would end up like it always did. She'd get too scared to tell you what was really on her mind, even though you'd try with everything in your soul to get her to open up to you. In an effort to stop you from convincing her to take off her mask, she'd push you onto the bed and distract you, making you think that you weren't the person she wanted to discuss her heartache with.

I wanna take you high up.

Because taking you high up for her wasn't about showing you the ways of the world or showing you the beauty that could be found with love. Taking you high up for her was based on how many times she could make your legs tremble in one night or how many different positions she could flip you into. She hated it, but she knew there was very little she could do about the damage that she had caused.

Let our hearts be the only sound.

If only her heart could talk. It would tell you that she longed for you from the moment she left your house each morning. It would tell you that she cried herself to sleep too many nights to list when you'd told her you were going on a night out and hadn't said who with. It would tell you that she sat at family events watching her loved ones proudly show off their partners, and she imagined being able to do that with you. It would tell you that her stomach did somersaults when your name popped up on her phone. It would tell you that she had fallen in love with you and wasn't sure she could get back up.

I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine.

But then it hit her. The only place that she could truly be, where you were only hers, was in the comfort of your home, that place she went to at 3am. If she took you out, took you on that date she had planned in her head for months, you'd be on show to the world. The internet would take over and her love for you wouldn't be just hers anymore. Everyone would know.

I wanna give you wild love.

And she did want that. Every part of her except for her brain knew that she did. That she could. She was sure that if she wasn't stuck in this crowded room, she could cry enough tears to eliminate that percentage of her brain that was made up of water. Perhaps if she could do that, she might be able to make her heart the more impactful of the two and actually make the right decision. But she was stuck in this room; she couldn't cry, and she couldn't tell you.

Tried to call you, to feel you close.

So, in typical Leah fashion, she did call you. She called you to feel you close in the only way she seemed to know how. You'd accepted the invitation, letting her know that she was welcome to come at any time that night. She'd smiled at her phone, wondering if you were staying awake just to see her.

From a runway in Tokyo.

Distance. How could she ever expect you to wait for her as she travelled the world? Her football career meant that she couldn't be sure where she would be from one week to the next. On a Tuesday, she could be planning to head out to another country the following week, but by Wednesday, her team could've been knocked out of that competition, and suddenly the plans had changed. She knew you'd understand, but she loved you too much to expect it to be enough for you.

Let's leave the atmosphere, disappear.

She wished she could scream at the artist on stage to tell him that line was the truest he had written. If only she could disappear with you somewhere where she wasn't so unloveable, then maybe you would fall in love with her too.

There's always something left to lose.

And so, she travelled to your house at 3am and as she finished showing you exactly why she hadn't had gone to your house that night, she gathered you into her arms. It had taken you by surprise; she knew that. It had been a long time since she had really swept you into her grip and peppered kisses along every inch of your collarbone, but she needed to use those unspoken acts to say the things she couldn't bring herself to say.

"That feels really nice." You'd whispered, filling her stomach with the most unimaginable butterflies."I... love you... like kissing you."

She cursed herself for that. Every. Single. Day. So many times she'd replayed that memory in her head, wondering what the outcome could've been had she just been brave enough to say what she really wanted to.

I wanna give you wild love.

She settled for knowing that she had told you, even if you hadn't heard her. The next morning, she had slipped out of bed quietly and pulled her clothes back on. She had delicately stroked your face, cupping your cheek with her hand and whispering those three words to you before pressing her lips against your forehead for the last time.

The kind that never slows down.

She'd never driven as fast as she made her way home. The tears that she had held in from the event the night before, paired with the tears that she held in as she had finally told a sleeping you her true feelings, were now threatening to spill from her eyes as she made her way along the roads that used to line a journey filled with embarrassing smiles to herself as she recalled the night before with you.

I wanna take you high up.

When you tried to reach out to her a few days after that morning, she'd wondered if maybe it didn't have to be that way. But it was when you sent that final message, telling her that no one had ever made you feel as worthless as she was making you feel, she realised she couldn't be the one to take you high up.

Let our hearts be the only sound.

So she resigned herself to the fact that her heart would still beat for yours, but it would do that from a distance.

I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine.

She thought of you every day. She thought of you when she watched tv, when she heard a song that she just knew you would love, and when she climbed into an empty bed each night. The thought of you not being the last person she'd shared a bed with was too painful for her to even think about moving on. She loved you enough to want what was best for you, truly hoping that you'd found someone who appreciated you the way she wished she told you that she did. She didn't dare look, she didn't dare open up your social media page.

I wanna give you wild love.

Every achievement she made was marred by the huge void left in her life. That void was shaped like you. Not by the curves of your body that she had ever so delicately caressed or the feeling of your breath on her neck. It was shaped like the sound of your laughter, the crinkles around your eyes when you smiled, and the warmth of your skin in the mornings when her back brushed against your stomach. Since you, she hadn't been able to enjoy anything, not fully. She hadn't been able to really feel the happiness of winning a match or the excitement of attending a new event. She hadn't been able to embrace the love in the room at any wedding she'd been to because she wondered how long it would be until she heard of yours.

I wanna give you wild love.

She'd resigned herself to the fact that she may never see you again. After all, you weren't the type of person to hang around in the places she did; that was always her favourite thing about you. It wasn't something that appealed to you; you preferred cosy nights in rather than extravagant nights out. You preferred to wear casual attire as you beat your friends in a game of pool rather than clinking champagne glasses at a black tie event.

Let's be reckless, unaffected.

If she thought that heartache was finally giving her a break, she was wrong. She knew that the second the universe told her to look towards the doors of the restaurant as she waited for her new agent to walk in, only to see you. For a split second, she wondered if you were there to confess your undying love for her or if this was some grand surprise that she knew nothing about. Her eyes had darted downward through sheer nervousness as she eagerly anticipated the moment you would reunite, but when she finally looked up again, you were sitting a few tables behind her. She wanted you to be jealous; she knew you didn't come to places like this; you had to be on a date. She laughed loudly and clinked her glass against her plate "by accident" more than ten times throughout the evening in hopes that you would be distracted from your date if you noticed her. She didn't dare look.

Running out until we're breathless.

But then she did. Her agent had left in a hurry after getting a call about another star that needed help with a journalist, leaving Leah to wait for the bill. Her heart sank when she stole another glance in your direction. She saw the menu you had strategically placed across your face, one that she knew was there to hide your embarrassment at the empty chair that sat across from you. Pieces of her heart shattered in her chest as she looked beneath the table and saw your legs bouncing up and down. She knew that you were on the verge of tears. She thought of the possibility that knowing she had witnessed this, a complete act of horror from the monster who had stood you up, would make you feel even worse about the situation. But she couldn't just leave you there, not when she loved you as much as she did. When she stood to her feet, her breath zapped from her body. She wondered if you'd actually had anything to eat; maybe she could pretend that she hadn't and sit down to eat with you. Then she remembered what you thought of her; she remembered that she had spent years teaching you that she wasn't thoughtful unless it came to the bedroom. So, of course, she did the only thing she knew how to do; she adapted that behaviour, waltzed towards you with false confidence, and sensually took hold of your menu.

Let's be hopeful, don't be broken.

She hadn't bargained for you calling her out on her behaviour. She hadn't expected that you would sound so incredibly hurt by her absence. She knew you might ask the question of where she had gone, but when you asked it in a way that suggested you had been the problem, the wind was knocked from her. In that moment, she had a decision to make. You needed answers. She saw a vulnerability in you that she'd caused, and she hated herself for it.

So she gave you the most honest one. She turned off her brain for a single second to allow her heart to speak for itself.

"You made me fall in love with you."

Let's stay caught up in the moment.

Did she panic once the words had left her mouth? Yes. But knowing that she had finally given you an ounce of the honesty and love that you deserved made that fear feel like a slight insignificance in the grand scheme of things. She saw something in your eyes that she'd never witnessed before; it told her that you were in love, and if her heart wasn't mistaken, it was her that you were in love with.

I wanna give you wild love.

The two of you did end up back at yours that night. You did end up in bed together, but that night was different. That night, instead of whimpering your name, she was whimpering that she loved you and that no one made her feel like you did. She told you of your beauty and took time to actually admire the parts of you that she hadn't allowed herself to before. Like that little freckle that sits just below your rib cage. She swore she would kiss it every single day from now until the day she died. She was never letting you go.

The kind that never slows down.

And she didn't. She didn't slow down at all. Not this time. Just two days later, she had taken you on a first date, two years after the two of you had first wound up in bed together. That very date would become her new favourite memory, one that finally knocked her Euros win into second place.

I wanna take you high up.

Finally, Leah began to realise that she could be that person if she let herself. She could take you high up in ways that she hadn't thought possible. You didn't care for the expensive restaurants and star-studded events; a date for you could be a board game in the back garden. A date to you was the person you were on it with.

Let our hearts be the only sound.

It occurred to her as she showed you the true version of herself that even sex was different. Those silences that once needed to be filled with encouraging words and cries of your name could simply stay silent. In those moments, your hearts did the talking. She no longer needed to bury her head into the side of your neck to avoid falling further into your eyes. Your eyes were hers to fall into now. Forever.

I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine.

She began to realise that there were moments when you were only hers, even if the world did know. Those moments came in the parts she used to run away from. But she stopped. Instead of slipping out of bed before you woke up in the mornings, Leah held you close.

Oh, I said I wanna give you wild love.

So, it came as no surprise to her when, three years later, as she found herself forgetting everything she had rehearsed the second that one knee hit the floor, the only words she could think of were "I wanna give you wild love, forever."

And she did.