Friday, 2 July 2010
Thank God for Michael Bublé
Boy, does he have the talent.
Pure effortless, smooth, wondrous, fantabulous talent.
He sings, he dances, he writes, he croons, I swoon.
I've never really been one to 'fancy' celebrities. That is until recently. I have to admit, a couple have caught my eye of late. But Michael is my perfect crush.
It's not a 'desperate housewife' thing. I'm not bored of my other half, I'm not looking for a bedroom fantasy. It's not a sexual thing at all. Although...
Err, Where was I?
Oh yeah, perfect crush..
I am extremely drawn to the man's talent. His voice is mesmerising to me. I crave it. It gives me a complete high, a rush of lust. Like a million tiny hot kisses on the back of my neck that leave me breathless.
He calms me down when I'm manic. He cheers me up when I'm at my lowest. He helps me along, when I'm happy, and gives me feeling when I'm numb. In short, there is nothing this beautiful man couldn't do for me.
This week my bipolar has hit it's cycle hard. It's thrown me skyward to watch me come crashing back down. It's laughed and pointed and smacked me in the face. It's ripped me to pieces and jeered as I've tried desperately to regain myself.
Through all of this, Michael has been there. Grasping my hand as I've scaled the clouds. Catching me before I've hit rock bottom and holding me tight to glue me back together.
He is my fantasy world, which I can escape to when the real world is holding my head firmly under the water.
I listen to him. So elegant and fluid. So rich and smooth. So very relaxing.
He helps me rest and find peace, something that I can't find alone.
This is why I am in love with him.
This is why I thank God for Michael Bublé.