Love Song

Yes, this. This right here. Rewind if you will to NHS, approximately 25 years ago. I had sooooo many crushes through those high school years, mostly on guys that didn’t even know I was alive. I was eager and excited. The Class of ’95 hit our freshman year like a football team through a pep assembly sign. Full force, all in. So many faces come to mind. Let’s see…There was an Adam, a Ryan, a Jeff, a Kevin who lived west of town, a Jed, and a Kenny.  There was a Mitchell from Alluwe, a Lauchlin from Syracuse, a Justin from Murfreesboro, a Stephen who lived in N-Town but got schooled in Oologah. Zeke, almost forgot about Zeke Baby, a banker’s son straight outta Coffeyville and who had a ride almost as slick as mine. A Clint, but he didn’t count because he moved away. Oh well, his loss. Oooh, and there was that guy who jogged and worked at the lumber yard. Sammy, I think it was. He was much older than me, but I liked that he took care of himself and appreciated his quiet demeanor. I would imagine us having conversations about books and poetry and Stephen Hawking’s ‘A Brief History in Time’, me sipping oolong tea and him chugging a Lite beer. Or Muscle Milk, maybe. That crush was never valid, not really. I just never had anything I had to go buy at the lumber yard, so I never had a chance with him. My daydreams were about as far as that ever went. He had a great head of thick, curly black hair and my guess is he’s probably baldheaded now. Sexy bald, not greasy bald. Oh, and there was a Torrey (though I never understood why his parents gave him a girl’s name), and I also had it bad for a Jason. Jason played Bruins baseball (baseball!!!!) and was going to play for OSU after graduation. I reallllllly, really liked him. Lots. There was a Jamie I was terribly, terribly taken with, and I even remember looking for things missing around the kitchen and in cupboards that would necessitate a trip to Landers Grocery just so I could get 15 seconds of eye contact as he asked me if I wanted paper or plastic. Of course, I always opted for paper because, well, back then I wanted to save the environment and stop global warming and dirty oceans and bygollygee I was determined to do my part. I mean to tell you, if it were the 60s I most likely would have found something to protest. So, paper it was. He’d sack it up as I paid Estelle for my insignificant purchases. I crushed on that boy so hard that I’d pay double at Landers for something I could have easily gotten cheaper at the other place across the tracks. My heart absolutely soared on days when my GrandMaud would send me to the store twice. It rarely happened ‘cuz she never cooked and only subsisted on Winston Light 100s and Coca-Cola, but when it did happen I’d make sure to use my time in that checkout line wisely. Be cool, be cool. Aaaaah, Jamie. His hair was blonde, he was a great dresser, and he was SMART. Funny. Popular. Congenial, too. He went to church and he was good to his momma. Like me, he’d never really met a stranger. He was a likeable guy, very much so. But as I made my way out of the store and climbed back into my car, this song flooded the speakers. ‘Love Song’ by Tesla. Uh oh. That song was my Game Over in relation to the boys I liked. I would try really hard, maybe get a little eye contact or a quick exchange of glances from across the aisle in Psychology or History. I tried to let whichever guy it was know I was interested if you are. The ball’s in your court, buddy. Looking back, I tried too hard. But back then, I couldn’t do enough and of course couldn’t do too little. Act nonchalantly. Stay cool. Don’t act desperate, and for the love of Pete, don’t let him KNOW he made my toes curl. But, back to the drawing board I would go, wounded heart in hand, a shieldmaiden of unrequited love.

It could have been a good day at school, too. Sun shining, maybe I got an A, or maybe the pop machine spat me out a free Slice. Maybe I said something that made him look at me and our eyes would lock. In just a few seconds I could feel my heart just swell with happiness of being noticed. The bell would ring and I would bounce down the hallway that smelled of either hot wax or baby piss, depending on which part of the high school you were in. The odd sort of smell wafting from the gym would come right out and assault the senses when the janitor was polishing the hardwood.. And, at the other end of the long corridor and right outside Temple’s Home Economics, what smelled of baby piss but was actually the buttered popcorn 6th hour was trying to learn how not to burn. You know, the actual popping corn and butter fat, not that lazy imposter Orville Redenbacher. Not no Jiffy Pop, either, waiting to blow up and singe off your eyebrows 3 days before yearbook pictures. No matter the direction you decided to go, you were going to smell something unpleasant. I likened the aromas in that hallway to the smell of paste and fish sticks. Not offensive, really, but instead just 2 things that, after having sniffed them once, were embossed forever in your mind. Smells not easily forgotten, they would lay heavy in your heart. A blanket to insulate emotions.

Smart, athletic boys. But mostly smart, quirky, and if he played a sport he had to be passionate about that said sport. That’s who I liked. Then again, doesn’t every teenage girl? I made up little scenarios in my mind where I’d accidentally bump into Him in the hallway or He would FINALLY wake up and see what a great girl I was. I daydreamed of prom, of being on the arm of My Guy. In my movie scene mind’s eye, he sent me flowers and called my personal line only to hang up when I answered because he was so nervous to talk to me. But not before he heard that I was listening to Casey Casem’s Top 40 Countdown. What, you like America’s Top 40, Liz? Me too. Let’s go out. Yes, of course, I would say. Thought you’d never ask. And because I was an independent girl, I’d even offer to go Dutch treat. Why not? Didn’t boys like independent girls who could think for themselves? Of course they did not. Not really.

Anyway, while none of that happened, I did enjoy a sort of self-reckoning that a few of my crushes actually liked me back. I’d catch him staring at me in class. Sometimes there was a look of interest in his eyes that told me his friends might give him a hard time for talking to me or inviting me on a date. I wasn’t the prettiest, after all. I had zero athletic prowess save for a season or so of cheerleading and those two times I Bowled For Kids’ Sake, or during summers spent dog paddling around the local pool. My heart would thrill if I were outside during lunch with my friends and he’d drive through the lot, all cool in his lettermen’s jacket and throbbing, thumping bass. But I’d turn the dial and there would be this song. Dammit. Game Over. Try Again. Maybe Next Time. Not Eeeeven In This Lifetime. Keep Dreamin’, Kid. For me, Tesla’s words were the universe’s way of elbowing me in the side to get a grip and realize that love is out there, but just not right here, right now.

Heartbroken, I would continue to march on. I’d find myself warming the bench while others were couples skating. Near tears, I let my feelings get hurt too often at the rink and I’d think to myself, “Now, WHY are they skating to a song about love ending?” It wasn’t ME who had it wrong, it was THEM. They were clueless, all of them, especially that preppy little Anthony (I think that was his name) that my friend Amanda kinda liked back when. He’d have on his khakis and a cable knit sweater and sometimes a button down shirt with the collar poking out a little. Straight up sexy, only I couldn’t act like I thought that way because after all, Amanda liked him! Anthony would get out there with Amanda and they’d be skating away, him in his dorky Eddie Bauer getup and her just tall and reserved and looking pretty all the time without even trying. She had her nerve. But, the song would play and I’d internalize it so deeply that it soon became a mantra for me in several ways. Keep looking. Don’t settle. Wait my turn. Wrong way. Slow down. Chin up. Keep going. One Way. During those slow skates where the lights were dim and tripping over your rad speed skates meant HurryQuick!GetupbeforeHeseesyouonthefloor, I could be found warming the bench, pretending to be interested in the laces of my skates just so I didn’t have to blink and relieve the pressure from the tears welled up in my eyes. Envious and hurt is how those nights at the rink left me, but I always had an odd reassurance that someday – SOME day – I’d meet somebody just right for me. My Special Someone.

In those earlier days, the skate bus would drop us off at the U-Totem just a few blocks from my house. It was well after dark but I would walk the short distance to my then-safe neighborhood. I would put my key in the door and turn the knob, stepping into that cigarette-filled house I survived in, and lay down across my bed to process my good-day turned-awkward night. Sometimes there were quiet, juicy tears I’d smear all over my Cabbage Patch pillowcase. Other times not. Just the promise of having the late Friday nights until early Monday mornings to lick my wounds, regroup. If only I were skinny, I’d think. If only I didn’t have this big gap between my teeth! If only I had a mom to talk to. Lots of ‘if only.” I’d skulk over to my stereo and turn it to favorite stations of the time, K107 and Z104. There it would be, this song, EVERY TIME. In so many ways and through all emotions, this ditty helped me deal with what seemed like the end of my world. I knew rejection and I knew it well, and while obviously it was not how I would have chosen for things to go, I knew it was all for good reason. I took great comfort in knowing that something better lay down another road, and frankly it excited me to think of the day I would discover it. 
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So you think that it's over 
That your love has finally reached the end 
Any time you call, night or day 
I'll be right there for you 
if you need a friend

It's gonna take a little time
Time is sure to mend your broken heart 
Don't you even worry, pretty darlin' 
I know you'll find love again 
Love is all around you 
Love is knockin' outside your door 
Waitin' for you is this love made just for two 
Keep an open heart and you'll find love again I know 
Love is all around you 
Love is knockin' outside your door 
Waitin' for you is this love made just for two 
Keep an open heart and you'll find love again I know