Am I still breathing?
Have I lost that feeling?
Am I made of glass, ’cause you see right through me.
I don’t know who Iam and you’re the only one who sees that
I can’t ask these questions that cannot be answered today.
-Trapt, Made of Glass
I’m gonna let you in on a little secret: I am a very auditory person. I’d rather be blind than deaf. I can usually tell by their tone of voice when someone is angry and who they’re angry at.
But most of all, I connect sounds and places. There are all those commercials talking about smell being closest to memory.
For me, it’s sound. If I hear a song, I can tell you all about the last time I heard it. Sometimes, I get a taste for a song or album or artist and that’s all I want to listen to. When I went to England, Ireland and Scotland it was Trapt.
I can’t escape winding down these halls/had to find a place where there are no walls.
It was the right sounds and the right lyrics for the trip. It was the first time I was really away from my mother. I didn’t call her for the entire almost-two-week-trip. It was as close to freedom as I’ve gotten yet, which was a really big deal then.
Plus, I was with A, who was still my alpha and omega. She was the epitome of what I wanted to be and the person that I would have happily spent the rest of my days with. I listened to I’ll run away with you by my side and daydreamed about the two of us living together in a sod hut on the moores for the rest of our days.
Took me another two or three years to figure out that I liked girls. I’m quick like that.
I spent a lot of time mad at A for the way things went, but it’s not really fair. I knew that when I was mad, but it felt good to indulge in a little irrational emotion for once.
We grew apart. That’s really all that happened. She took care of me through high school, filled a need that I had (still have) that I don’t think anyone else would, could or possibly should fill. She was the bubblegum and twine on my almost-gone muffler. She understood my problems.
I feel bad that I’m not doing that for her. I still feel like I owe her something, for all the crap she put up with from me.
I drove her nuts listening to this cd on repeat for the whole trip overseas. But I didn’t know how to explain that it was the best way I knew to remember the details forever.
Because right now, I’m in Ireland, and we’re still best friends and my life is perfect.
The last time you cared about anything, the last time you allowed yourself to be seen.
