This songs matters to me, because: (your explanation here)

Once again, I'm impressed, DD. Beautiful.

 

That's remarkable stuff, DD.

 

Beautiful story DD. As a young, single writer, I hope I can someday have a story like yours, both professionally and personally.

 

I've mentioned this woman plenty of times before -- both in passing and detailed stories -- so you’re probably all sick of me writing about her. But I don’t care. This thread, in my opinion, is more therapeutic than anything else -- and I really dig that.

Coming off a bad break-up, I found myself at this girl's doorstep before a party. Extremely nervous because I'd never really spoken to her, I mustered the courage to knock on the door, and there she was -- truly, an angelic vision. She had long, brown hair, an amazing smile and gorgeous, blue eyes. She seemed too good to be real, as if she was something out of a dream. And to this day, I still believe she is.

After several shots of Aftershock, we went out to a party with a couple friends, and all I could think was, "This girl is amazing. I really want to kiss her." I spent the entire party getting to know her. This one dude was hitting her all night until I finally tapped on his shoulder. When he looked around, I just smiled and gave him an enthusiastic wave -- like I was a few fries short of a Happy Meal. He left. Problem solved.

I had so much fun with her that I didn’t even think about why I was out drinking -- to forget my ex-girlfriend. I couldn’t think of my past because this girl wouldn't let me. I didn't know if she knew what exactly she was doing to me, and neither did I at the time; she was changing my life.

I was having a lot of fun that night, and consequently had a bit too much to drink. My friends took me back to my room and made sure I was OK. This girl, whom I'd only really met six hours earlier, stayed by my side and took care of me. She got me a washcloth, changed my garbage bags, my sheets and made sure I stayed alive.

When I woke up the next morning, I stumbled to my computer and typed her screen name onto my list. All I wanted to do was say thanks ... and maybe hang out a little bit. Luckily, I remembered her screen name and asked her if I could buy her a pizza to show my gratitude for the last night. After three hours of talking, we finalized our plans and said our goodbyes. I couldn't wait to see her. I even left my football game an hour early. I was doing real well, too -- I had two touchdown catches and an interception -- but I could care less about the game. This girl was worth the sacrifice.

We hung out all night. I stayed in her room talking until 7:30 a.m., and when I left, I knew she was for me. For nearly 12 hours -- and for the first time in a month -- I smiled. She is the hardest person to be unhappy around. She can sense the displeasure and kills it with a joke, a story or a smile. I felt like a winner again.

We repeated this every night over the next two weeks. I must have been like a bad rash because I barely left her room, and when I did, we’d talk on the computer for hours. We never tired of each other.

After a couple weeks of talking, we hit almost every subject -- our families, failed relationships, classes and, especially, our tastes in music. We're both punks. If it's got a fast, melodic beat, chances are, we were digging it. Her favorite band was Green Day, which was a definite perk to me. But she was a big fan of The Ataris, and her favorite song was "I.O.U. One Galaxy." Mine was "Teenage Riot," so we differed on that one. But we got through that.

I really liked her. I couldn't eat, think, sleep or listen to music without having her cross my mind. It'd been nearly four years since I confessed my feelings to a girl, and I really never thought I'd have to after meeting my first girlfriend. I was terrified to make the next step. The last thing I wanted to do was lose her, too.

Then she took a four-day trip to New Orleans and left me behind. I missed her so much more than I could ever have imagined. I was depressed the first day. I didn't know what to do or say. I couldn't hide out in her room and take up all the space on her futon. And I didn't even know if she shared my feelings. Then the phone rang, and I heard the most wonderful voice. She did it again. Suddenly, everything was OK.

A good friend of mine came down to visit us that next weekend and Mike told me, "You better ask her out before I leave, dude." And I did.

We all went to a playground later the next night after a party. We were playing around when a couple frat brothers started talking to us; my history with the Greeks at school was ... not good. She and I began making fun of them a little too loudly. Drunk and stupid, I whispered to her, "Hey, let's walk away before I get my ass kicked." She agreed, and it was finally time.

We walked over to a little pavilion and sat on the picnic bench. To this day, I don't know how I got the words out of my mouth, but after a month of studying this girl, I said, "I really like you." She said, "I like you, too," and I countered with, "No, I really like you, like, I want to you to be my girlfriend." Then she leaned over and kissed me. It's easily the best night I've ever had.

We went back to her room, with Mike and our friend, Jenn, and decided to stay there. Mike and Jenn were turning the futon into a bed, and I stood in the middle of the room, contemplating my options: Do I go into her room now? Or is that moving too quickly? It'd been four years since I started a relationship, and I was 16 then, so I was clueless -- like usual. But she grabbed my hand, said, "Come play with me," and led me into her room. We made out passionately, pet each other at a feverish pace and dry-humped ourselves to sleep.

She rolled over to the left side of the bed, and for the next six hours, inch by inch, she pushed me off the right side. I woke up with no sheets and my right limbs on the floor. But I had the girl on top of my left arm with hers wrapped around my chest. I turned my head to the left and saw her blue eyes open. To this day, it's the most beautiful site I've ever seen.

Even now, I can't think about that moment without feeling a bit faint. I've never been able to shake it. More than four years later, through dating, pushing each other away and chasing each other, when I look into her eyes, I hear the same song: The Ataris’ “I.O.U. One Galaxy.”

And through all the time we've been apart, more than three years now, it's never lost its meaning. And it likely never will. ...

Stars are out tonight
And you're the brightest one shining in my sky.
It's like every wish I ever made came true.
The day I woke up lying next to you.

Will you be my best friend
If I offer you my heart?
'Cause it's already yours.
We could hang out every night
And watch the sun go down.
As long as we could watch it rise again.

Gave me a Valentine.
It's these little things that stand the test of time.
I've saved the tickets from the shows that we've been to.
And a thousand other memories of you.

Will you be my best friend
If I offer you my heart?
'Cause it's already yours.

Gave you this I.O.U. today.
It said, "Good for one galaxy."
Once I build my rocket to the stars.
We'll fly away just you and me.

 

You know what's kind of fun to do with this thread:

Start at the beginning and look up the songs mentioned on YouTube, then re-read the posts as the song plays.

Kind of like being in a movie.

 

This thread reinforces a conversation I had with a friend recently. I was trying to explain to her how small the world was when I was younger. I lived in my little suburb and my experience of the world was what I was told by my family and teachers. It wasn't until I moved away to go to University that I began the journey to a much larger world and that story seems to me to be reflected in a lot of the stories on this thread.

Maybe that's why movies have soundtracks. It's art imitating life.

 

I don't think it could have been said any better, HC.

 

A brief, somewhat lighter one.
Back in college, I had a summer job as a forest ranger. Couple of times I year, I drew fire tower duty. All I had was an transistor AM radio and, yes kids, back then there was music on AM radio. A lot of it was real schlock. There were never any fires, but I'd sit in the tower and scan the forest, and there'd be a hawk circling in the distance, and I had a grown-up job making damn good coin and I wasn't stuck in a store somewhere, and my senses would be so wide open that everything mattered, every little breeze went right through me to my heart. I swear to god I was soaring with the hawk. If there is a soul, mine would have been sailing. There is only one song that brings back those glorious, weightless days.

Brandy (You're A Fine Girl) by Looking Glass.

 

Love that one, FB. I had a job delivering pizza when I was 19 and I loved just driving around with the window down, listening to AM radio and dropping pizzas. Probably one of my favourite jobs.

 

Please forgive my ignorance, but what are clips?

 

Clips are stories you write for the paper which you save to provide samples for prospective employers.

 

i've laughed, cried and then laughed again.