His voice rumbles softly like the strings on his guitar. Each strum and pluck echoes his dedication and his love like an old man with his long-time lover. Delicately, sweetly, his voice fills me with hope and promise.  His dreams are childlike, but his confidence is brighter than the sun. My chest swells and I am afraid it might burst. Am I naïve? What can I call this strange lingo? A simple stare sends me to the clouds. I must be living in a dream.