I was in love before. I mean, I’m in love now, but I was in love before, too. Or at least, I thought it was love. Now that I’m older and what I consider to be a bit wiser, I’ve realized that it was probably just an extra long bout of lust. She was cute, and I was cute and we both needed relationships. She was too nice to dump me, and I was too needy to let her. We tried taking a break. I still called her every day. I still cried when she told me to hang up. I cried even more when she hung up. I’d still email her, and try to send her instant messages. Until she blocked me. All I could think about was her listening to that friggin’ Peter Parkers CD I bought her. The one she wanted because this guy she knew suggested it. The guy she started dating after she officially dumped me. On the internet. Through instant messaging. I had it rough. At the time it was devastating. I still had to work. You don’t get time off for being dumped. So, now what? What do I do now?

1. Listen to more music.
2. Start drinking.
3. Start sleeping around.

There are tonnes of stories I could tell about 2 and 3, but it’s 1 that actually made the difference. There was one record that was the feel good hit of the summer for me that year. I discovered Nebraska band Cursive through that same ex. I found their album “Domestica” which was put out after the lead singer/songwriter Tim Kasher went through a pretty messy divorce. At that point in my life, I felt like I had found my kindred spirit. Looking back, I was being a crybaby, but at that time, it was a very big deal.

Domestica is still with me, but for completely different reasons. I don’t cry anymore when he says “Your Tears Are Only Alibis” to his ex on the track “The Martyr” anymore. I don’t feel vindication when he says “A Little Bit Closer your lipstick is smudged dear, here let me wipe that smirk off”. Now I notice the dissonant guitar notes. Like a Nebraskan Rock n Roll Stravinsky. I’ve noticed that there isn’t a single chorus on the whole album. I noticed the singer sings from his throat, and when I try to mimic him, I start coughing from the phlegm. I’ve noticed that every record since has gotten weirder and weirder.

This record means something completely different to me now than it did 5 or 6 years ago. I guess it kinda shows how much somebody can grow up and change in what is really a short period of time, yet still be the same person.

I threw out the phone to try to get through to you
The lines are down, drowned by the hum of the radiator
This house is the hole that you could never fill
With rose-blossomed bouquets, vanities and loveseats