The Mixed Tape

A/N: This is going to be one of four one shots that go together but can all be read seperately as well. Enjoy and review! )

This is morning, that's when I spend the most time
Thinking about what I've given up

I wake with a start from a variation of the same dream that I have all the time. In it I'm with her, as always. We're happy just like old times but somewhere in the middle the dream always changes. I'm alone, and I have no idea what happened to her. Then I go to look for her. Sometimes I find her and sometimes I don't. Whenever I find her it's usually on some sidewalk of a busy street, I guess that's my subconscious bringing in a past memory of how I ran after her once before. This time I found her somewhere different. I found her at a wedding, her wedding…to someone else. I couldn't see his face, but I could see hers. She turned to me with a sad look on her face and mouthed words to me. Now, this happened once before too, except she didn't mouth the same words in my dream as she did that other time. This time, she said "You're too late." And then I woke up.

This is a warning
When you start the day just to close the curtains
You're thinking 'bout what I've given up

And so it goes. I spend another hour lying in my bed trying to figure out why I can't seem to shake her and get on with my life. I have every reason to appreciate life. I ended up making it big in Canada a little bit after that time I spent in Vancouver recording an album. I had abandoned the funk sound and went back to the original style that got me my first chance. Of course, that was sort of her too since she was my inspiration for the song. Some years and hundreds of shows later I ended up successfully crossing over to the U.S. Now I'm living in California of all places and preparing to do a homecoming show in Toronto. Maybe that's why the dreams of her started to become more frequent.

Where are you now?
As I'm swimming through the stereo
I'm writing you a symphony of sound

I've written other songs about her since "Dust". Some she knew about back when we were still together and some I wonder if she has figured them out. All she ever told me was that she thought all my stuff was great and that she was proud of me. But that was back when my first album came out. I've already done a second and if I'm being honest with myself I have to admit that some of those songs are about her too. I just can't help it, my stuff is just better when I write about her. I guess she's my muse.

Where are you now?
As I rearrange the songs again
This mix could burn a hole in anyone
But it was you I was thinking of

Ashley Kerwin. I always think of her just as that, her. I hardly ever think of her by name. I don't know why that is. I can't understand half of the things in my brain when it comes to her but all I know is that she's been the one constant.

I read your letter
The one you left when you broke into my house
Retracing every step you made

We had written back and forth to each other occasionally. She even came to see me when she was visiting Caitlin in L.A. for some journalist thing. She was the first familiar face I had seen in a long time besides Caitlin, Joey, and sometimes Angie. Joey comes out here all the time to see his on-again fiancé of a few years. They're probably going to be fifty by the time they actually marry but hey, whatever works. They kind of remind me of me and Ash. But at least they're finally making it work. Before she left we spent all night in this little bar just talking about everything. She told me she regretted the way things ended between us and she thought about me a lot, about us. We said a lot of things that night.

And you said you meant it
And there's a piece of me in every single
Second of every single day
But if it's true then tell me how it got this way

Yet the next day she got on her flight as planned and I've only heard from her a few times since then. It's been months and I wonder if maybe she thought she said too much, and she changed her mind about everything. Maybe that's the way things are supposed to work with muses; they're just supposed to be like an unreachable illusion, not a reality.

And I can't get to you
I can't get to you
I can't get to you, you, you

I finally force myself to swing my legs over the side of the bed and get up. The wooden floor is freezing and I half run to the bathroom. When I finally get in the shower and let the hot water spray on my face it helps to clear my head a little. I think about my so-called love life. Manny and I had broken up that summer after I came back from Vancouver. I don't talk to her much either but I know she's out here making movies just like she knew she would, I hear she's engaged to another actor. I've dated various girls but nothing seems to stick. I just can't make a commitment or a connection with any of them. Tons of people tell me I can get any woman I want but I'm just too stubborn to settle. There's only one out there that I do want and I decide that I need to make my own reality so I can stop being haunted by her in my dreams. It's time for me to find out if I can reach my muse again and keep hold of her this time.

And this is my mixed tape for her
It's like I wrote every note
With my own fingers