Your first compliment - "nice smile". And my world has rushed down a roller coaster of wonder and tears. I spent the rest of the day running from the truth. Everyone's eyes, concerns, questions about the mysterious vibe I'm giving off. My secrets disconnect me from real people. I want you to be the reality and them to be the fantasy. But if I go much further with this, my smile will never again truly light in my blue eyes. I flirt with danger as I await one last word from you.

I have actually heard the soundtrack of your music in my life. This time it was real, not simply imagination. I have heard your voice. And this causes a question deep in my soul. Is this really where I want to go? It will not end up successfully. It will not be my dream come true. It is a mystery to me how that the dream is more true than reality. You, the sound of your voice, the sound of your music on that blue guitar hold me safe over the abyss - all the while knowing that there is truly no hand holding my heart and too soon I will be dashed. Fantasy is life. Reality is broken. You are my one heart's hope. Tonight you will be awake under the stars, you told me so, and I will keep you in my dreams for there is no place else for you to live.

There is a line, but your blue guitar pulled me across it. I am now in the no man's land of no return.

Your blue guitar has become a cloud in my mind. I plot and I dream and I plan about how you will find me, I will find you. Most of them are excellent ideas - I am sure they will work. Sadly, I can not put even one of them into practice. Aside from the fact that, one: you don't know me and two: there's no guarantee you'll love me - the third fact remains. Because of my life, my career, my spiritual commitments, forever prevent me from finding you. So, while you may never know that I have already created a relationship with you, I can tell you that you seem to like me well enough in my dreams.

My blue mind drifts off in day dreams or night visions with your music playing as the soundtrack. Hear the soft strains as I send send that first email - my picture included only for you because too many other people know my face. I'm making plans to be in your town, and let you know if you want to meet there is the local bookstore. I wonder if such a handsome cowboy as you would even want to set foot in a bookstore. The absolute symphony of my heart drowns out the memory of what we say to each other, nervous laughter, how do you do's. It is dark when you walk me to my car. I start to go - well, goodbye and then you ask me for a drink at a quiet corner of your favorite hangout.

Of course, I have not other relationship to worry about. That one is either over or dead. So I am free to follow, and be discovered. I've learned so much over the past years, about what to look for, how to grow two hearts into intimacy - I am sure I will do this one right.

And so, as you hold the door open for me, and we walk through the door, you smile truly and deeply from your eyes.

I want to tell him, the man with the blue guitar, that I think of him many times daily. I also wonder what he would think of me, first of all, how I would look to him. Too old? Too fat? Too worn? If I passed that test, then I wonder if he is amazing enough to see my heart. Of course, the next questions rush by in a haze, for if he passes those two tests, then I see us there, laying in rumpled blankets, while he plays his guitar for me, and we are laughing.