I just wanna…
I Just wanna jam with Shawn. I wanna sit in his living room, swallowed in by the view of night time central Toronto and the way he strums his guitar so softly.
And I wanna sit there with the tv playing softly in the background - forgotten, wasting money and electric - while I strum on my guitar and feel so inadequate to his home grown skills.
Then I wanna start strumming a song i think he doesn’t know, like me being all smug because I know this obscure blues song by Joe Bonamassa or some shit like livin’ easy or black lung heartache, and I want him to join in and sing the chorus like he grew up on that shit.
Want him to smirk - proudly - as he yells it, laughs when I’m surprised and then I want the TV to slip onto standby mode, let the candle be our only light and it’s so dark we can’t see the strings but we keep on playing anyway.
Till it’s light out, till our fingers go numb and the candle burns to the wick.
Want the birds to start chirping when we’ve finished ed sheerans whole discography, and then I want him to laugh, his tired eyes lit up by the slow sun bobbing over the CN tower and say ‘Same time next week?’ with a grin so fucking bright that I get a sun burn.