” Where you go I go
What you see I see
I know I’d never be me
Without the security
Of your loving arms
Keeping me from harm
Put your hand in my hand
And we’ll stand. ” (Skyfall – Adele)
Suddenly, words stab, the air is knocked out of my lungs, my eyes swim. I cannot remember who I am, feel like running, screaming, dissolving into a sobbing heap. Instead, I sit very still, fingers moving automatically across the frets as my guitar teacher carries on singing.
Heartbreak is a cruel despot, with a knack for making you pay when you dare forget about it -if only for a few minutes.
Today, as I concentrated on getting that tricky Bm7 chord right, it sternly raised an an army of still warm memories of the dozens of other times I played Skyfall, of Mr Nice sprawled on the sofa, singing along or watching the football, smiling crookedly after yet another outburst against the referee.
I go about the days, stiff with fear of heartbreak’s absurd rule, avoiding any thought of the past or future, pretending to ignore that my new present feels miserably tight and scratchy.
Outside, the mountains tremble in a haze of heat, clouds rise and children squeak. Bigger things are happening.
We finish playing Skyfall and I hazard a breath as we move on to Pharrel Williams’ Happy.