I don’t get the jitters anymore. I miss them. It sucked, in some ways, those moments of shaking and staring at my fingers, wondering if they’d ever be able to connect to my brain again, feeling like I’d lost not just the lyrics to my songs but every word I ever knew. But by the end of those shows, I felt like I could fly. I felt like the whole world was mine and all I had to do was reach for it. Of course, after, when everyone left and the bartender shuttered things up, I’d be in my car, hyped up and alone. Driving until my hands felt heavy on the steering wheel.

Now, that flying feeling is rare, and most of the time I don’t bother to chase it. I don’t let myself care enough about the audience to get nervous. It’s too much work for too little payoff. I get up on stage because my fingers feel right pressing metal to wood, and singing is the only way I hear my own voice because I don’t have anyone to talk to. I play and I work the audience like an old habit and they have no idea that I’m pretending they aren’t even there. It’s private. It’s mourning. It’s a love song. A map of where I came from and it’s just mine, not anyone else’s.

I start with Waiting. It’s a song from my first CD, an EP I recorded in this guy Cole’s basement in Red Bank two years ago. When I play the opening chords, a few people applaud because they recognize it. These people in the audience listen to my songs while they live their normal lives, cooking dinner, driving to the grocery store, picking their kids up from football practice or cheerleading. They make my words mean what they need them to mean. To them, this song isn’t about Adam. It’s about someone they didn’t end up with.

Even though I know it’s just a fairy tale,

I keep waiting, waiting for you

To rescue me from the pale.

Even though I know it’s just a passing phase

I keep waiting, waiting for you

To save me from this choking haze.

Even though I’m the one who said goodbye, it’s true

I keep waiting, waiting, waiting…

Waiting for you.

And when I sing, before I close my eyes, I notice that the ones who applauded are singing along. I’ll sell them the new CD at least. Maybe a few of the new faces will buy both.