Coping Very Well

04/2006

I wouldn’t listen to his voice for months. I need to be strong and unflappable. There’s money on the line. Big money, and I’m reminded by someone every single day.

The first time, on a rainy Sunday night, I burst into tears. The lyrics from “Sideways” performed with Carlos Santana, got me good. And he’s been getting me good ever since.

I introduced my friends. They were smitten – men and women. One wacky friend ended up writing an entire play showcasing the guy – Citizen Cope. Producers, cast members, even some in the audience thought she’d made him up. She’s good but – come on! That good? And while my friend was tempted to weave some saucy tale of where she was when she manufactured the recording artist, she came clean. Cope is his own man.

Like most couples, Cope and I broke up for a while. To be clear, I broke up with him. He was late. And, I think, perhaps, stoned out of his mind. We were in Dallas. I was beyond forgiveness. After all, I once dumped a college boyfriend for being late to the library. I could do it again and I did. I stayed away for weeks; maybe months. I arranged my musical world around him.

But then my friend wrote that damn play and miracle of miracles – it was produced. We all showed up on a Saturday night at the sexiest space in town – The Backlot. And that’s where he did it. Cope got me good. Again. Damn.

Goodbye strong.
Goodbye unflappable.
Hello forgiveness.