Now that we’ve met
We can only laugh at these regrets
Common as a winter cold
They’re telephone poles
They follow each other, one, after another
But now my heart is green as weeds
Grown to outlive their season
And nothing comforts me the same
As my brave friend who says:
“I don’t care if forever never comes
‘Cause I’m holding out for that teenage feeling,”
All the loves we had, all we ever knew
Did they fill me with so many secrets
That keep me from loving you?
I would have liked to think that getting older came with a heightened sense of reason, but regardless of age, the only time a date really feels worthwhile is when you find yourself capable of the irrational; Like wanting to sing show tunes and skip with occasional tap dancing intervals down supermarket aisles, like wanting to roll down your window and hurl things out when you’re genuinely angry. It’s the stuff of inside jokes, of loaded silences and dysfunctional relationships that somehow always manage to send sparks flying and licking at your toes and fingertips making them curl. Call it naive and immature, but there comes a point where attraction is beyond rational choice already; after all, your head can only take so much.
To some extent, this is probably how it feels to realize you’re gay. But this time you’re not doing a double take to check if the person you’ve fallen hopelessly madly in love with has the same set of pipes, you’re just checking because nothing in this situation seems to be in the right place. Except your, erm, yeah, your heart. Your heart is in the right place. Damn you heart!
It’s my thing to have songs for all of you because it’s usually beyond me to articulate how I feel beyond the last chorus.
So, would you still love me even if I listen to country music?
Which is a blank space or a missing part.