Let's feel amazing together.

Maria was a DJ, and she was ahead of her time.

A natural blonde (gasp!), she had her hair cut into a shaggy pageboy style, with at least 5 different colours of dark brown and awesomeness.

She was all jeans, trainers, and tee shirts, and she was as close to New York City as the City of Wellington in New Zealand ever got.

When she walked into a room, the room stopped being a room, and became 'the spot'.

This girl was a knockout.

She didn't need makeup, she never wore any. Her mouth was so defined, it just made you a slave to the thought of a kiss.

And her eyes?

Don't get me started.

I met her when I moved into a flat she shared with a couple of guys I knew...one of whom used to be a taxi driver! Regular readers of this blog will know what the exclamation mark was for.

Mike and Sam are two of the most laid-back, good looking, talented fans of house music ever.

God alone knows why they liked me, but they did, and I *heart*ed them right the hell back.

They invited me to move in, just before I moved here to Australia, it was always going to be temporary.

They told Maria, and Maria said "If you guys like him, I like him".

So in I moved.

I brought my big screen TV with me, and moved it into the lounge room. Maria, who I had seen, and had an intense crush on for years, was sitting on the sofa, legs all over the place, talking on the 'phone.

It's just about never that I'm totally ga-ga-can't-speak over a female, but this was one of those times.

I loved it.

She hung up on her conversation, and offered me her hand, which I shook.

But let me break it down some more...

I reached for her hand, and I could feel its warmth before I even got there.

My fingers touched her fingers, and they slid over each other so slowly i could define every line of her flesh, while my calloused hands sent a shiver up her spine, and back down through mine.

She breathed in sharply, and I breathed out slowly.

Our eyes were locked.

I didn't do so well in High School, but I sure know chemistry when I see it.

"I'm Maria".

"I know".

Oh my god, that smile could break your heart. Men have fought wars for less.

A lot less.

"So, we're going to be living together, huh?" I said as cooly as I could under the circumstances. I was scratching my head at the same time, in anticipation of the enormous problem this scenario offered us both.

"I hope so" she countered, and I'm pretty sure my heart stopped for a second.

And we didn't leave each others side, except to go to our respective jobs, until I moved here to Melbourne.

She worked in a record store (of course) and DJ'ed every now and then (as little as possible).

I was a guitar tech, and had to go away twice on National Tours, for about 2 weeks each (NZ is a very small nation!)

But the times in between were filled with just the 2 of us, talking endlessly about everything, and never disagreeing, her riding on the rear freestyle pegs on my BMX, eating Mexican dinners every chance we got, and holding each other close, looking deeply into each others eyes, and thinking about giving up rock and roll forever, in favour of making babies and being a living, breathing Coke commercial.

We had dinner for 2 to celebrate my 30'th birthday, just 2 of us in the whole restaurant. It was the best birthday ever.

And when she took off those jeans and tee shirts, and dumped her trainers on the floor, and I was enveloped by the soft vanilla essence scent of her, and her skin was against mine, and that mouth was kissing me, then gasping as my fingers hinted at her folds...her total femininity and her softness and gentleness rocked my entire being like no other girl in history.

Her face was never turned away from me when we were naked together.
It was like her mouth had to stay on mine every second we were coupled, or she would die. I was her air, and I know she was mine.

She was perfect.

She was the untoucheable and perfect prize of that city...she didn't give it up for anybody.

And when I'd wake up in her bed, with the sun streaming through the window, and her perfect ass nestled up against my perpetually swollen cock, i can honestly say for the only time in my life there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

Almost.

You see, I had this dream, and I still don't know if it was stupid, but I had to see it through, or I would never have been truly happy.

There would always be that question...what if?

I wanted to move to Australia, start a band, and take it on the road.

I didn't need to be the biggest band in the world, or even the land.

I just wanted to write and play music, and get away from being the guy who looks after every other shit band on tour.

Anyone who has been in a real band knows how intensely hard it is to make this happen.

You can have the best songs in the Universe, but if the band isn't committed, you're over.

Finding a committed band is rarer than rocking horse shit.

And even if you do get it together, there lie a thousand traps and conspiracies designed to make you fail.

It's easier to start a business and turn over a million dollars a year, than it is to start a band.

I know, because I left one behind for the other.

So...Maria.

I had told her from day one that I had to go, and I guess she just assumed that as we got closer, that my mind had changed.

I wanted to, but like I said, I had to try.

And so, one morning at 5am, I kissed her beautiful sleeping face goodbye, and climbed in the shuttle.

I was in Australia 6 hours later, pulling up outside my new house.

It was pissing down raining, and the cab driver was an asshole. He took my pack out of the boot before I could get to it, and dumped it in the gutter full of water.

And it was so strange.

I was so full of excited optimism back then, like "this is it", and "this is where it starts!"

But it wasn't.

This place really opened my eyes to the harsh realities of music, and one by one all those juicy little morsels of excitedness have been replaced with a sad and heavy despondency.

I have utterly failed in my mission, and in the meanwhile, I was stupid enough to lose touch with Maria.

It was almost like New Zealand was no longer real when i got here, I can't really explain it. But I know a few of you will know this feeling too.

I was lucky enough to go back to NZ on a tour after a year here.

Maria still hadn't moved on, and she took me into her bed without a question, once all my work was done.

That sun through the window again. That perfect ass again. Me leaving again.

It hurt her, I know it did.

I know it did, because I was there too, and as much as I rail about people living their lives with their heads up their asses, I was the posterboy for the movement back then.

I know it, because I was there, and we both felt it.

It was love, it was the real thing, it was the totally unaffected, natural, perfect, harmonious coming together of two elements so disparate, that they formed a perfect seal around each other that kept the rest of the world outside.

In my defence, I was on tour non-stop for the first two years, and I didn't stay in touch with anybody.

But that's a shit excuse, and we all know it.

So now, it's 5 years later, and Maria has moved on (to Japan), and she won't reply to any of the emails I sent her when i came to my senses.

I don't blame her.

And while this story sounds like it has a sad ending, it doesn't.

I'm just hapy to know, that somewhere out there in the world, some lucky guy is waking up, with the sun streaming through the window, Maria's perfect ass nestled up against his perpetually swollen cock, and he's looking at the girl he loves.

And he's not going anywhere.