Translation (spelling and bad rhyming intact):
Feb. 7, 1998
Tonight I found a key, or even a couple keys.
people I bond w/,
people I connect w/.
Erica is… my hero.
she is all I wish I could be.
Arman has this aura of fun yet maturity.
Audra is all smiles and speaks so freely
Wade is so unique but has a cute individuality
I loved every second, every minute and hour
to see our friendship bloom
like the bud of a flower
it was the most fun I’ve had in a very long time.
he is what I want
what I dream of
yet I am content w/ the friendship,
of watching from afar
his witty ways.
he is so unique and special
yet I don’t feel inferior I feel @ … home 🙂
when he pats my head
or smiles in a glance
or just the warmth of this hand
could I fall..
yes I could
will I fall…
that remains in the stars
for though, I would love too,
the time could be wrong
and there is no way to be sure
but to be his friend
and see if love is to bloom
because if our friendship stars to fade…
I just may love Wade.
which way leads to my hearts true happiness
which path should I choose?
both seem to lead me in loops.
maybe it is a trick
and my path is hidden
and should just take a step a day,
maybe that is my only way
just live everyday
as my last.
The times at Valley Drive were epically awesome. Really, when I consider my life I’ve been blessed with living in three “college-esque” houses. Valley Drive wasn’t my home and I was young enough to get away with the more destructive aspects of drunken debauchery. Because of this it has a very Meatloaf “Love By The Dashboard Light” quality to the time that The Yale House and The Michigander lacked. Although, to be honest, The Hill Haus has had it’s fair share of drunken magic, but it lacks a key element to the college party house atmosphere: roommates.
Again, at this point Valley Drive was Erica’s parent’s house and Audra’s mom rented it and was our “house mother”. She worked for the auto industry and was working most nights. She kept a loose eye on us, but tolerated a lot of shenanigans as teenagers took over the house. The truth was that some party people would show up on the weekends, but my favorite times at Valley Drive was during the week. Erica would be playing her trumpet on the roof. Audra would be wrapping strands of her hair in thread while listening to music. Tommy would be in the sunroom painting. Arman and Wade would be on the front porch swing drawing and writing a new comic and I would be at the dining room table doing some homework. Nicholas would be at the computer with a couple of friends and you could hear the teeters and laughter as they explored 1998 era computer magic. There would be random shrieks of laughter and random screams of anger but overall it was a collective of people that just shared space that was unrestricted. And we were all around 18 years old.
Now, that isn’t to say that we didn’t burn kitchen chairs in a bonfire. Or that someone had shrapnel in their forehead after some idiot put an aluminum bat in a different bonfire. Or that a bunch of our BMX bike buddies didn’t make a huge mud track to race on, only to find out that the mud was actually the septic tank overflowing. Or that skinny dipping in the pool was a regular occurrence. Or that Erica didn’t put on a helmet, get into a tractor tire and roll down a hill. Or that Audra didn’t put herself in between two asshole hoosier guys that started punching each other, and broke the fight by her force of will alone. Or that I’d get so drunk that I believed my magic Blue Thunder Shoes could take me over the bonfire- and they did!
I did find a couple keys that night that began the path that led me to Erica, Audra, Arman and Wade. The path that led Audra and I to renting The Yale House. The path that led Roland and I through the woods of Northwest Arkansas to visit the Winslow Hamlet and Erica and Luke. The path that led me to a more definable and passionate Tricia. The path that helped me express myself in ways I never have before. The path that led me to stand on a tree stump and tell stories for hours, stories about Blue Thunder, stories and songs that allow me to be Shoosha! Stories that allow me to be comfortable telling people everything and anything that’s on my mind. Stories that gave me the impetus and the courage to write this blog every week.
The magic is palpable.