When I was a young girl, electric with sensuality and a burgeoning curiosity about all things lust, passion, and love, a song came out, sung by a man with a silky voice, that seemed an anthem to all three. I was working my first waitress job at the time, an Irish restaurant that had a jukebox stocked with as wide a variety of music as you can imagine, and in the midst of milquetoasty '70s selections ("Dancing In the Moonlight," "The Morning After"?!) came... Barry White, with an undulating, unforgettable intro and that rumbling baritone crooning "I'm Gonna Love You Just A Little More"... remember?
Give it up, ain't no use
I can't help myself if I wanted to
I'm hung up, no doubt
I'm so in love with you, for me there's no way out
'Cause deeper and deeper
In love with you, I'm falling
Sweeter and sweeter
Your tender words of love keeps calling...
Eager and eager, yeah
To feel your lips upon my face
Please her and please her
Any time or any place
I'm gonna love you, love you, love you just a little more, baby....
I remember the suspense of that musical opening: the drums start it... then the keys set that iconic riff. Barry's voice weaves in and out in that bedroom way he had... all combining to create this grooving, driving, layered paean to immutable love. I was smitten.
I would play that song over and over, all day and into the night shift, swooning around "section B" like a lovesick teenager to the point that the bartenders thought I was crazy and every drunk in the room wanted to dance with me. But this wasn't about hook-ups and flirtations; this was about LOVE, true love so strong "there's no way out." That's what I wanted: to be in love with someone who'd fall "deeper and deeper in love" with me right back. I was a young girl mesmerized by romance and poetry who now had my love theme.
But time went on, music changed, Barry put out other songs I liked but none quite as well. I grew up, fell in and out of love more times than my mother appreciated, and learned that the kind of passion Barry rhapsodized about wasn't easily found. I still believed in it, didn't give up on it, but stopped holding every relationship to the standard of "no way out." I always seemed to find plenty of ways out... as did they.
Until I met him. The man I married, the man who, 24 years ago on this day, told me, by virtue of everything he was, everything he gave me, and everything he promised on that wedding day, that he was, indeed, so in love there was no way out.
This time it looks like love is here to stay
As long as I shall live
I'll give you all I have and all I have to give
No, those weren't his vows -- I'm still quoting Barry here -- but in the ensuing 24 years he did give me all he had to give, which was every joyful moment, every event, triumph, and memorable experience you could imagine. But life being what it is -- meaning, we weren't living in a love ballad -- we also hit some walls that were so damn hard I thought our heads would crack. His almost did. And those were the moments when "no way out" felt more like a sentence than a promise. We ebbed and flowed, ran away and came back; sought and looked and learned in every way we knew how and, somehow, some way, ended up full circle, back to where we started... back home. Where we healed and evolved and let go and forgave until we knew, once again, no doubt, "this time it looks like love is here to stay." A vow coming full circle as well.
I'm sure you realize there's a wink in how I'm framing this story, a clear understanding of my sweet, youthful naiveté in believing love could be defined by a ballad sung by Dr. Love. But still... certain ideas nestle, certain sensations and feelings become part of your cellular memory, and even seemingly trite words and melodies become connectors to grander ideas. And, to this day, whenever I hear "I'm Gonna Love You Just A Little More" I'm back at that juke box, swaying to the beat, eyes closed and heart filled with longing, believing in life and passion and those "tender words of love."
And today I celebrate the man I married, the one who spoke those tender words so long ago and speaks them still. Happy Anniversary, darling. Wherever we've been, wherever we're going, know I'm always gonna love you, love you, love you... just a little more.
Thank you, Barry White...
Follow Lorraine Devon Wilke on Facebook, Twitter, and Rock+Paper+Music. Find details and links to her other work at www.lorrainedevonwilke.com and her Author Page at Amazon, watch her book trailer HERE, and be sure to follow her adventures in independent publishing @ AfterTheSuckerPunch.com.
AFTER THE SUCKER PUNCH
by Lorraine Devon Wilke