Greyest of blue skies

Finger Eleven - Bones & Joints

This song has too many broken hearts associated with it.

When I set out to start this project, I knew there would be many, many difficult entries to write, and I knew I'd have to start writing them eventually. Not every story can be about childhood, or the happy parts of discovering something new about music; and I wouldn't want to pretend that everything is easy or that I've never regretted something I've done in my life. And that's what this project is about: telling the stories no matter how bad we might feel about them. Catharsis, maybe. But isn't that why all of us are so addicted to music, to certain songs, artists? Because of the memories, or the way they make us feel. And I'm not going to ignore a song just because of the way it makes me feel.

Now I can't claim to be able to remember clearly everything that happened in my senior year of high school. But as it was with probably most of us back then, there was drama and melodrama and crumpled notes and brown-bag lunches. Senior year for me was really punctuated by two major breakups, and both of them seemed to revolve around this song. I should've known it would be trouble by the way I latched onto it from the first time I heard Finger Eleven's second album (and arguably their best). The album as a whole really resonated strongly with me, and perhaps it was just that it hit me during that period when being angsty was cool for our subculture.

So the story... yeah, there's a story in here. Near the tail end of my senior year I was in one of those high school relationships that never should have happened; it was my own personal version of "Say Anything". I was the slacker with a heart of gold (or at least one that tried to be that) and she was the brilliant quirky girl. Maybe it was just my persistence, but something came of it and we became a "thing." It wasn't perfect (as few things are), and the week leading up to prom was a complete mess. The event itself was generally good, I got to wear a tuxedo and looked good in it, and she was beautiful as always. After prom, our group went back to her house and stayed up most of the night watching movies. It would have been fine, if not for the fact that we were all participating in the Race for the Cure walk the next morning. So we did the walk on practically no sleep, tensions were high and nerves were frayed as they would naturally be in a situation like that. And still, we got through the whole event without much trouble, and I made it to the tuxedo rental place to return my suit and managed to get home in time to pass out for exhaustion.

Things continued to get rocky from thereon out. I really don't remember a lot of the specifics of how things went down, but I know I was growing concerned about her summer trip to Europe with a school group. I've always had abandonment issues; if I had to psychoanalyze myself I'd probably call it a result of being an only child and generally a latch-key one at that during my highschool years. Her going away for a few weeks combined with a similar issue that turned sour the summer before made me grow alternatingly bitter or needy, which in turn irritated her and the whole situation grew messy. The climax and the thing I most regret about those few weeks was when I wrote the words of this song on a note and left it in her locker. I went and sat outside on a bench, and after class let out and she had found it, she came and joined me. The dramatic movie lover in me remembers the exchange that followed in words that are probably much different than what really happened:

Her: So what's this all about?
Me: I... I don't know.
Her: I guess we had this coming, after the last few weeks.
Me: I guess so too.

There was a slow, dramatic pause; something cinematic.

Me: I just don't really know what I'm doing anymore.
Her: I guess it's for the best, then.

And then, she got up and walked away. At least, that's how I remember it playing out. I'm sure there was a lot more bumbling and poor word choices from me, and the whole thing probably lasted more than five sentences. But if I were to sum it all up, then that's how it would have to be. Over the next few weeks we tried our best to stay apart, while being friends if possible. It was tough in high school, since we suffered the fate of having a number of classes together. Eventually, during exam week, we worked things out and decided to give it a try again, and the rest of the summer was great, as good as it could be with the impending weight of going to different colleges hovering over our necks. That summer was probably one of the happiest of my life, as working things out can really serve to deepen a relationship. But then came August 23rd, 2001, when I went off to college and left her behind, and like a fool I let it all slip away like so much sand.

The more and more I think about it, that whole June of 2001 was really one of the definitive periods in my life so far. It was a really tough time, and I made a lot of stupid decisions. I saw her for the first time in years last summer, or at least I think I did - me and two friends had been in a rear-ending car accident on I-495. While we were standing on the median waiting for the tow truck, I definitely saw her pass by. I don't know if she recognized me. I tried to get in touch with her, but I never heard back. I can't say I'm too surprised, I know I handled things poorly after the summer ended and we went to college. I guess I was hoping that a few years not talking could have healed some things, but at the same time, I guess I'm not too surprised. She was one of the most important people in my life, someone that I loved dearly, and someone that I probably hurt more times than I even really knew. I hope someday that she forgives me, and knows how much I regret the bad decisions I made back in those days.

And that's what this project is about, in its barest elements. This project, the audiobiography, it's a way to release the sad as well as the happy memories. To see them all lined up in this jumble of random recollections, it's refreshing - just to know that every down point had ups as well, as well as the reverse. And starting at one of the down points of this story might make writing about the high points easier, in time. There's hundreds more songs that I have yet to write about, and a story like this proves to myself that I can actually write these things out.

Plug in, and turn it up...