White Houses

There are some songs that we love, for the sake of love. There are some songs that we love because the story they tell, and those which we love for each line.

For me Whites Houses, is like a stream of memories, at light sped, each with its own pang and its own story.

The first five beats
726 is banging out the notes.

"Five beats to start, 565, you're counting wrong."

He taps me when its time to go. Sometimes i get lost, just watching him play, feeling every note. Here, he has no doubt, no worries, he is the master. I'm trying to remember to breathe, to add phasing and he waits for me patiently. We bicker about phrasing, about slides, but I am the singer, I win. (well mostly, I win). In the end, we have a million takes, the sun has gone down and the hours have flown by. Here in our sanctuary, I do not miss them. Here we are safe, from the world and its endless to-do list, from our relationships. Here we are even safe from each other. Here we are the perfect pair, and we can't find the reasons to deny or complicate it.

Crashed on the floor when I moved in
Arriving at Glisson, I'm nervous. I've never been camping or evenstayed in a cabin. No summer camp. Not even big groups of girls, but i pick bed and make my top bunk home for the weekend. I remember the fresh pine wood, and concern for splinters; sleeping fully clothed because it was so cold. Seeking the face of God in dark night, and praying that the girls that surround me would be sisters in Christ.

This little bungalo with some strange new friends
Stayed up to late and I'm too thin
The girls and I huddle at sleepovers, we're headed to middle school, then highschool. Surely we can stay friends forever

We're spinning empty bottles its the five of us
The pretty eyed boys girls die to trust
I can't resist the day, No I can't resist the day
Sleepovers at Lew's house. Phone calls to our parents about how we are just watching movies, leaving out that the boys are coming over to spend the night too. We cover the bonus room with pillows and blankets. Everyone in there own pallet with the boy-du- jour. Liz is making out with Camren, Lew's little brother is trying to bum cigarette's off someone. Everyone knows i'll end up with 726 before the dawn, but the tension is high. Lew groans at the though of another round of pain and tears. But here we ago again, was there a movie or just loud music, lets curl up on in blankets and watch the dawn.

Jenny screams out and it's no pose
Cause when she dances she goes and goes
Beer through the nose on an inside joke
I'm so excited I haven't spoken
And she's so pretty and she's so sure
Maybe I'm more clever than a girl like her
Simple pangs of jealousy: Lew for her party skills, Shannon for being everything i'm not. Lbu for always laughing, staying in control and keeping them wrapped around her finger.

The summer's all in bloom
The summer's is ending soon
It's alright and it's nice not to be so alone
But I hold on to your secrets
In White Houses

Maybe I'm a little bit over my head
I come undone at things he said
And he's so funny in his bright red shirt
We were all in love and we all got hurt

I sneak into his cars cracked leather seats
The smell of gasoline in the summer heat
The feel of leather seats, sticking to my bare skin. The heat of the car, with the air conditioning off, as we work to devour each other in the back of that tiny car. The bright glare of sunshine that can only come in the middle of the afternoon in the South. The sight of broken construction tools and cars, that we are hidden between, hoping with logic that only the young and lustful can achieve that surely no one will find us here at our spot; along the back hidden country roads. I cry out, and fear not the pitch and strength of my voice; there are no parents to find us here. Gasping for air between cumming, is the sent of stale coffee, cigarettes, leather, sweat, and the thick slide of heat down our throats in the summer day.

Boy we're going way to fast
It's all to sweet to last
It's alright
And I put myself in his hands
The perceivable feeling of falling, Of letting go. Of choosing not to worry. Will. Joyfully falling

But I hold onto your secrets
In White houses
Love, or something ignites in my veins
And I pray it never fades
In White houses

My...First...Time
Hard to explain
College lover and I as we sit on the edge of the bed. Swimming in blue, Tuesday afternoon. The moment, really the moment. Excitement.

Rush of Blood oh A little bit of pain
726's basement. I lie with a pile of pillows behind me, on that old whit couch. I cry out. Broken, blood, tears. He comes to hold me, chase away the demons."It's ok, its ok. Did i hurt you?" I shake my head willing myslef not to hurt. Tears steam across my face. "Shh, shh its ok," and he holds me until it is ok.

On a cloudy day
It's more common then you think
Back to the memory of College lover. The happiness, the randomness, going to see 726 and his gf for dinner, grinning from ear to ear, because of the reasons we are late.

He's...My...First...Mistake
When was loving a mistake?

Maybe you were all faster in me
we gave each other give up so easily
The silly little wounds will never mend
I feel so far from where I've been
Coming from college, and knowing that "the girls" are broken. Knowing how we grew apart, it wasn't the distance, it was the lifestlye and the love. We chose to let the love go. I don't think it will mend.

So I go and I will not be back here again
I'm gone as the day is fading
In white houses

I lie, put my injuries all in a dust
In my heart just the five of us in white houses
And..maybe you'll remember me
What I gave is yours to keep in

White houses
In white houses
In white houses

Bocci Ball in Braynt Park

Seeing bocci ball always makes me think of being at the Kholer's.

Missing the family we grew out of need for each other, the stress of calculus and making our first life decisions. Those times in life are rare as are the friendships forged by them.


Sent from my "grown-up phone"

Rain Strom

The rain was coming. He loved the rain, said it brought peace. More than rain, he loved the storm. I like to think it was because he had so many storms in his mind, it made him feel better to see some of that manifested on the outside. I, on the other hand, hated storms. I hated to hear the sound of thunder, hated the lightening that was so shocking. I mean he did know that people die by lightening, right?! But that was us, I said go, he said stop. We weren’t total opposites but we were different enough to be ying and yang. I guess that is the way it always is though…

726 and I were different in that we actively tried to merge with each other, to quell the differences between us. I don’t think it was conscious, but it was something that happened to us on every level that I can think of. To this day, I notice myself climbing stairs like him, making jokes like him, arguing in that take zero-sum killer method I developed by fighting with him. I think because of our tender age 726 and I became one person, more so than the average serious couple. I also believe that’s why I miss him so much, he is in so many ways (except the traditional) my other half.

I digress though…

It was storming. The air was electric, the way it holds a charge before it rains. He was excited and I groaned internally. I knew what was coming.

“Come sit in the rain” he said. He was light up like child at Christmas. He eyes were filled with excitement, with joy and with the hope that I would go with him.

“You know, I hate the rain, it’s cold and thunder means there is lightening.”

“Exactly” he replied. His smile widened into a grin.

He grabbed my hand and drug me outside. The truth is, I always wanted to go with him, wherever he went, I wanted to go.

We raced down the stairs and up the driveway. When we got all the way out into cul-de-sac before I halted.

“ I am not going out in the open.” I said with full pout, and a tinge of my fear.

“Please.”

“It’s not happening…” there was more fear in my voice now. Even my pride couldn’t hide that fact that I was scared.

“Ok, just the edge then”

So we sit under the tree on the sewer drain at the edge of the cul-de-sac. I try to convince myself that the lightening will hit the trees before me. I try not to think about how much sitting on water will increase the likely hood of a strike. He, however, is completely joyful, the rain is coming…

We sit there until we are soaked and until I can’t take the idea that being wet is greatly increasing our death wish.

But before we go in, he stops and leans down to kiss me. The water runs down our faces, he smiles and says, “Thank you, I know you hate the storm. I love you.”

We walk back up the house in search of towels, but I don’t really care about being wet or being cold. This is the best storm of my life.

Funny little things

Once upon a time I was obsessed with numbers. It came about of course because he, the ultimate he in my case, was obsessed with numbers. Baseball jerseys, signatures, times on the clock. After a certain amount of time who can't be excited about an extra kiss because its 7:26 p.m. It been a long time since then(almost 9 years) and I'm laughing at myself for thinking of him as I book appointments on 1/26, as I go to bed at 12:26 a.m. as I stop reading me book on 126th page. Some habits die hard. But I think it is fine, while in some way it is terribly sad, our fate and how separated we have become, deep down I know we're still connected, at that makes it ok.

In some small way a part of you,

726

Everything you want

I remember being 14. Standing in your room wanting to kiss you, worried about your mom. We turn on music, the classic charade of innocent activities. The album is Vertical Horizon. I stop, still hovering above you.

"I can't make out to Christian Music," I say.
"It's not," you reply and change the song to something other than Everything You Want.

Listening now to that song on Pandora, I can't help but laugh, at you, at us, and the reasoning of right and wrong.