Rebel Yell

My little friend from the bike path this am!

Heard this song yesterday:

Last night a little dancer came dancin' to my door
Last night a little angel Came pumpin cross my floor
She said "Come on baby I got a license for love
And if it expires pray help from above"

...and the refrain stuck with me, as a refrain will do:

In the midnight hour she cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell she cried more, more, more
In the midnight hour babe more, more, more
With a rebel yell more, more, more

Especially on the day after I saw the man I was crushing hard on last fall for the first time in months. If I'd thought about seeing him before it happened, I would have predicted one of two outcomes:

1) I'd be over my crush; or

2) I'd get all flustered when I saw him.

Neither one of these things happened. Instead, we gave each other a giant, super satisfying hug, the way we always did, and then we talked. Heart to heart. Pretty immediately, the way we do. Or did.

And as I stared into his eyes, all I could think was "Wow, you are so beautiful. I love looking into your eyes. I love the way your body feels when you hug me. I love when your eyes well up with tears when I say something that gets to you. Damn, my ardor hasn't dimmed one little bit in the months since I've seen you."

And, I'm not gonna lie, when he walked away, I also had some Billy Idol-related thoughts:

More, more, more

Because that's what I've always felt when I see this man. I want more of him than he is ready or willing or able to give. That's why we stopped hanging out:

She don't like slavery, she won't sit and beg
But when I'm tired and lonely she sees me to bed
What set you free and brought you to be me babe
What set you free I need you here by me
Because

In the midnight hour she cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell she cried more, more, more
In the midnight hour babe more, more, more
With a rebel yell more, more, more

I didn't want to put myself through another version of what I went through with the New Englander, where he wasn't ready to partner with me because he hadn't worked through his previous marriage or the vestiges of his childhood.

I still don't. So I let myself send him one text saying how beautiful and good-feeling I find him, and that I know the timing isn't right for us, but I appreciated seeing him as a reminder that I want to feel those feelings about the next man I date.

Well, that and more, more, more - someone willing to go that thousand miles the rebel yeller sings about:

I walked the ward with you, babe
A thousand miles with you
I dried your tears of pain, babe
A million times for you

I'd sell my soul for you babe
For money to burn with you
I'd give you all, and have none, babe
Just, just, justa, justa to have you here by me
Because

In the midnight hour she cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell she cried more, more, more
In the midnight hour babe more, more, more
With a rebel yell she cried more, more, more
More, more, more

Oh yeah little baby
She want more
More, more, more, more, more