“Do you think we’ll ever slow down?” she asked, resting her shoulder against the old tour bus. Merle chuckled, brushing the road dust off his jeans. “Maybe when the music quits chasing us,” he said. Behind them, the engine rumbled softly — almost like it understood it was hauling more than metal and tires. It was carrying their whole life in motion. Bonnie never brought much: a couple of dresses, a notebook filled with half-finished lyrics, and a heart that never complained about the long stretches of highway. Merle carried his guitar, a dream that was always a little out of tune, and a scruffy dog that followed them from gig to gig, loyal in every town. They didn’t have money, but they had freedom. The road gave them everything it could — early mornings that came too soon, nights that were loud and wild, and just enough quiet moments to remind them why they kept going. Years later, people would call them icons. But back then? If you’d asked, they would’ve just smiled and pointed at that bus, that faithful dog, and the love that held it all together — and said, “This was everything we ever needed.”
admin Introduction: There are love songs, and then there are songs that understand love — the messy, cyclical, bittersweet kind that never quite lets go. “Today I Started Loving You Again”…