Writing a new song on a rocking chair and saying to yourself "Well that's really good."
However, you change your mind. You think she will not like your song, and so you will sing something else.
Playing a guitar for a pretty girl and getting to see her gorgeous teeth and smile.
For a moment, you think about kissing her, but you go back to playing the song.
You've wanted to sing to her for months now, and you've finally gathered the courage to do so.
She is in awe of your vocals, but it is not your octave range channeling, it is your admiration, no, your love for her making you sound the way you do right now.
She doesn't know that you love her, but soon enough, that love will be known fully, even as to her you are fully known.
Your voice echoes the room like a reflection in a lake, and when you finish singing, there is no reflection needed, as you see face to face.
Eventually however, fate intervenes, and she has to move away.
Her father has gotten a job offer in another state, seemingly profitable.
She has to go.
You accept this, and that song is your last moment together.
As time goes on, you begin to see her in other women.
In women you know nothing about, save for their looks.
You become a vagabond, leaving as she has left.
You begin telling strangers how beautiful they are.
For we know in part and we reason in part, but when beauty comes, insecurity disappears.
You see them smile for what looks the first time in their life. You feel love.
Eventually, you get a phone call. It is her.
She tells you that you're the love of her life, that you always have been and always will be.
She starts to cry as she tells you she will never be complete until she gets to die in your arms.
Maybe any place with her is as adequate as the tears on her face.
She loves you more than her lips can kiss and her mouth can laugh.
She loves you more than anyone else in the whole world.