Life as a Country Song

When I was 13 I decided I wanted to kill myself.  I was a teenager; that’s what you did back then.

And then along came a girl.  Her eyes were… well, fuck… I can’t remember what color, but they were beautiful.   She had a shoulder length curly brown hair and the most beautiful smile.  De’anne wasn’t the sexiest girl in school, but to me she was the cutest by far.  She came into my world like a comet.  It took all of five seconds for me to become smitten with her.

Suddenly life didn’t hurt so damn much. And while none of the problems that made me suicidal went anywhere, I was suddenly far less keen to fade off my mortal coil.  Not with her on the planet.  When she was around, my stomach was a mix of knots and Beatles’ songs.  When she was gone, I was empty from her absence; hollow inside.  She was my dream; my raison d’etre.   And while that is a poor reason to live, it was enough.

It wasn’t enough for her though.   She wasn’t interested in me that way.  And was far more freaked out when I made my feelings known to her.  My first love was unrequited.   I never had a prayer.

Sometimes I look back on that time in my life, and I think I wasn’t in love with her.  That it was only a crush.   Other times I know it was love, even if it was only puppy love.  She was everything good in the world when I was in High School.

This morning as I was driving to Baton Rouge at 6:30 in the morning, Jamie Walters’ “How do you talk to an angel?” came on the radio.  And I was back in 1995, thinking about De’anne.   Singing that song to her, and wishing she could hear it.   Isn’t it amazing how one person can affect the course of your life so much an never even know it?  Isn’t it wonderful?

Advertisements

One response to this post.

  1. “a mix of knots and Beatles songs”

    That’s maybe the best description of that feeling I’ve ever heard. “7-Up bubbles” was the closest I ever got to describing it.

    Oh wait. That may have been a slightly different feeling, but still.

    As to the question… It kind of scares the crap out of me, actually.

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: