To Love Somebody

Thought the song would make a good title for what I wanted to post tonight. I was going to post the original, but I love hearing a good jam and I wanted to hear how these young guys would interpret it. I feared a Maroon 5-type rendition, but this group, Water and Rust, blew me away.

Anyway, here are the original lyrics (Water and Rust added extra that fit very well).

There's a light
A certain kind of light
That never shone on me
I want my life to be
Lived with you
Lived with you

There's a way
Everybody says
To do each and every little thing
But what does it bring
If I ain't got you
Ain't got
Baby

You don't know what it's like
Baby you don't know what it's like

To love somebody
To love somebody
The way I love you

In my brain
I see your face again
I know my frame of mind
You ain't got to be so blind
And I'm blind, so, so, so, very blind
I'm a man
Can't you see what I am
I live and I breathe for you
But what good does it ... do if I ain't got you
Ain't got
Baby

You don't know what it's like
Baby you don't know what it's like

To love somebody
To love somebody
The way I love you

I'm 99.95% sure this is how The Husband feels about me. (There's always that small amount of doubt that it isn't 100%.) And for a very long time, I felt this way about him.

So today I realized that we will have been married 15 years this August. Fifteen years ago, we planned a trip to the Harley rally in Sturgis, South Dakota. I saw that there was a link for wedding information. I asked the guy, who told me the day I moved into my new apartment here (having come from Toronto) that there was no way he was ever going to get married, if I should click on that link. To my utter surprise he said yes.

Earlier this evening we sat out back, each with our beer, and I mentioned how my friend from work was shopping for jewellery for his wife because their 20th wedding anniversary is coming up, and he wanted to do something special for her. I asked if we could do something special since it'll be our 15th. I quickly added it doesn't have to be jewellery, we could do something nice together. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Barbecue." When I said I wanted it to be something we don't normally do, he pulled out his litany of excuses as to why we can't do anything.

I smiled and said, "Oh here we go. Your big, long list of excuses comes out." He replied, "They're not excuses, they're reality."

I conceded he was absolutely correct, but plenty of people have problems with money yet they manage to do something, why can't we? Cue violin. He started to make me feel bad for even bringing it up. (To be truthful, I already knew this was going to happen because it happens often.)

But the topic he segued into made me smile. Not in a happy, happy, joy, joy kind of way.

He needs to fix his bike. It's pissing oil. Did a monologue about it.

I watched him pace up and down as he spoke about his bike, picked up the phone and other things he had brought outside, then went inside to go to bed. It was still light out. I watched him, but I didn't hear him. This song popped into my head. I wondered how he would react if I told him I doubted we could last much longer if things stay the way they are.

He would flip. I think it would kill him inside. It would make him even more distrustful of people. I know he loves me. And I know he believes that making money is showing love; it shows he cares for his family. This is his thinking.

His negativity is not what I need. He went moose hunting last November. Didn't come back with a moose. I fully expected to hear complaint after complaint about it. He was very zen. He paid attention to me. Not just to what I was saying, but to me. And when he would normally talk about money woes he'd say, "We'll get through it, we always do."

I asked him how he managed to come back so calm. He loved being in the woods, no technology around. It gave him time to think, he said. I never asked what about; that was obvious. I did tell him I hoped his new attitude would last a long time.

I should be happy that it lasted longer than two weeks. Hell, I'm surprised it lasted as long as it did. I also realize that it's hard to shift priorities. I've gotten, "Oh, I didn't have time to get you anything/Besides I didn't know what to get you/I don't know what you want/I can't afford to get you anything, I'm broke" (pick one, or pick all) more times than I care to remember. He's received birthday presents, and the odd Father's Day present. (Mother's Day and Father's Day aren't a big deal here - a card and a good meal at home is sufficient.)

I feel like I've flipped that song a bit.

You don't know what it's like
Baby you don't know what it's like

To love you

I don't mean to come across as a money-grubbing bitch. I'm not, seriously, I am not. But man, do something that shows me how deeply you feel about me.