Tuesday from him:
Good thing we’re safe. I didn’t realize the music list conversation could put us in jeopardy. I feel the need to present a new band to you so we’re safe for another couple weeks. Maybe I have that backward. I already did my part. Where is my new band from you? I could really use one. I’ve had a bad couple of days.
Have you ever tried so hard to live up to expectations only to fall short every time? That was vague and cryptic, wasn’t it? Okay, so my stepdad. He’s a super demanding jerk and I feel like if I could do or be what he expects me to be, then he’d be nicer to my mom or happier, or something. He’s been in my life for six years and I still can’t figure out exactly what it is that he expects of me. He’ll ask me to do things, I’ll think I do exactly what he asks, but he is never satisfied. I know you said you’re not good at sage advice, but what would you do in this situation?
Tuesday from me:
I don’t know. I’m a bit of a people pleaser so I’d be horrible in that situation. It sounds like maybe you are too. I guess if I were trying my hardest, that’s the best I could do. But it sounds like it’s his problem, not yours. If you haven’t figured out what his expectations are then they are undefined, which makes them impossible to live up to. Have you tried talking it out with him? Asking him?
You need a new band to help you deal with this? How about Better Than Yesterday? Are they new to you or are we in sync again?
Wednesday from him:
They aren’t new to me but I love them, of course. However NSYNC better not be on your list or we might be done.
Ask my stepdad. Now there’s an obvious solution that I haven’t tried yet. I just thought if I kept running as fast as he said for as long as he said that eventually I’d catch him. I don’t know why I care what he thinks so much anyway. Like I said, he’s a jerk to both me and my mom. I shouldn’t worry about it, especially because it doesn’t help. But for whatever reason his approval still means something to me. I do like your advice though. I should try that. Does it work for you when you talk to your parents? Are you a parent whisperer? (More lyrics: She’s a parent whisperer and that’s why she rules the world.) Tips would be helpful.
Wednesday from me:
Hey, I just give advice, I don’t take it. Tips for talking to parents … hmm … maybe write a letter so they have to listen and can’t interrupt. I don’t know. I talk to my parents a lot. For example: Can you pass the butter? Can I stay home from school today? Can I borrow the car?
No, but in all seriousness, sometimes I do talk to my mom about things that matter. And half the time it helps. The other times, life is too crazy for her to hear me. I’m not the only one who has no space in my house.
Okay, enough of the minor problems in our lives. Back to the real issue: finding an awesome band you’ve never heard of. Oh! How about End Game or Flight and Fight? Also, please, please stop making up song lyrics. It’s killing me.
Thursday (him):
Flight and Fight? I haven’t listened to them before. You finally found one. This means our playlists aren’t perfectly matched! We’re safe. I know you secretly like my song lyrics. How can you not? They’re brilliant. And besides, I don’t see you offering up any lyrics. Do you have any to share? You said you’d written parts of songs. You should include some lyrics in a letter so I can read them.
As far as writing my stepdad a letter, that’s a really good idea. One I might be able to do. I mean, I know a girl who just skims letters, but unlike her, he might actually read the whole thing.
Thursday (me):
I hope you’re not referring to me when you say you know a girl who skims letters. I read at least half. That’s much different than skimming. I measured this week in letters so I think you’ve underestimated their importance in my life. Well, at least their importance in my Chemistry class. That’s almost the same as life. And now that it’s almost Friday, I’m already dreading the no-letter weekend. No, but really (do I say that a lot?) I think a letter to your stepdad is a great idea. You should try it and if it works, let me know. Then maybe this will become my go-to form of communication with my parents from here on out. Talking is so overrated, I am learning.
And there is no way I’m including lyrics in a letter. I don’t share my unfinished songs with anyone. When I write the perfect one, then I will share.
Friday, him:
You don’t share your songs with anyone? As in, no one has read any of your song lyrics? How are we supposed to write songs if you don’t want anyone to hear them? We must work on this.
I loved Flight and Fight. They only have three songs though. Unless I’m missing something. Tell me that they have more hidden songs somewhere. And I’m with you on measuring this week in letters and the two-day drought we are about to experience. If only there was a way to transport letters faster, through some sort of electronic device that codes messages and sends them through the air. But that’s just crazy talk.
Friday from me:
Sending letters through the sky? Like when airplanes attach notes to their tails? I thought they only advertised for going-out-of-business sales. But perhaps our letters would be okay up there as well. I wonder how much they charge per word.
Nope, no hidden songs from Flight and Fight, unfortunately. Maybe you should offer them some of your lyrics for their next song. Considering how awesome your lyrics are, I’m sure they’ll accept. I should stop teasing you about that, considering I won’t share lyrics with you … or anyone. You’re right, it is something I need to work on. Confidence. I’m bad at it. I get too self-conscious. Especially about things that mean a lot to me. I feel like if I hold things close, never share, then I never give anyone the opportunity to judge me.
I sat on my bed, strangling the neck of my guitar and staring down at the lyrics I had finally been able to write. I was now trying to find the perfect melody for them:
I’ve turned waiting into a form of art.
Tied twisted lines around my broken heart.
To keep me hanging on for one more day.
I’ve painted on a crooked smile.
Hung the tears to dry awhile.
Because I knew that you’d come back to stay.
But my … arms are empty.
And my … heart’s in pieces.
And my … soul is twisting.
And my … throat is aching.
Because I’ve finally woken up to find:
That I’ve been Left Behind.
The song wasn’t finished, but I was satisfied with the first verse and chorus. I patted the newspaper clipping on my wall.
“I’m getting closer,” I told it.
Now I only had to work up the nerve to actually let someone else hear the song. One step at a time.
An image had worked its way into my mind as I wrote. It had inspired the crooked smile line. Lucas. The way he’d looked at me at the football game. I knew he wasn’t my letter writer—as a senior, he didn’t take Chemistry—and therefore not who this song was about. But his face was inspiring me. That, and the letters. Apparently my pen pal was good luck. His letters put me in the mood to write songs. And even with the interruptions constantly happening at my house, if I would reread one of his letters, I was back in the moment. It was amazing. It made time fly by. I didn’t even mind that Isabel was out of town and that I stayed home all weekend. I got to stay in my little bubble of writing and daydreaming.