Reason To Believe

On Sunday, Mo and I were driving across town, post-argument, post-apology. He was up early, dressed, and had done laundry for the second day in a row. Out of the blue, he asked me "Why did you bring up the Issue the other day?"

Not wanting another fight, and yet not wanting to continue to lie to either Mo or myself, I told him that certain behaviors indicate certain things to me. Whether they are true or not, I have no way of knowing. In fact, over time, I've grown to not trust my own judgment. I want to believe that everything is fine, even when its clear that everything is not.

Without coming right out and saying it, (Mo is as good at using euphemisms as I am), he confirmed my suspicions of weeks past. "You're not stupid," he told me. "Or crazy."

Aren't I, though?

Later that afternoon, we are at Wall.y Wor.ld, browsing CD's and doing some shopping. Mo starts humming and asks me "What's that song?" I didn't know, but I knew the words. We both stood there in the aisle, foolishly singing more and more of the lyrics as we skimmed the backs of the CD cases and waited for the "aha!" moment to come.

When it did, our eyes met briefly. "Oh, yeah. That's it." Mo put it into the cart and we moved on.

In the car on the way home, we played the CD. Listening to the lyrics, I once again thought to myself, "Yes. That's it, exactly."

If I listened, long enough to you,
I´d find a way to believe that it´s all true.
Knowing that you lied, straight-faced, while I cried.
Still I look to find a reason to believe.

If I gave you time to change my mind
I´d try to leave all the past behind.
Knowing that you lied, straight-faced, while I cried.
Still I look to find a reason to believe.

(one more time)
Still I look to find a reason to believe.

-- Rod Stewart, "Reason To Believe"