the quiet things that no one ever knows

Tonight I was doing that thing where you're so sensationally lost and void that you absentmindedly click on random icons on your desktop. That was when I came across some very ancient playlists. One of them was from back in grade 10, and when the first song played, I actually felt like I couldn't breathe. It's a pretty scary experience when you genuinely feel yourself getting sucked into the past. It wasn't like a walk down good ol' memory lane, it was like I was getting pulled apart and condensed all at once. All of the sudden, I was 15 again, I was sitting at my computer desk at my grandma's house, in the room that was far too big for someone who just wanted to shrink away. I remember curling up in a ball in that computer chair in the dark and talking to Chris until 3am, when he finally couldn't do it anymore and would go to bed. After that, I would just... Sit there, until it was time for school. I remember the smell of the room, the smell of the shampoo I used to use, the exact temperature in the room, and hearing that song.
It's bizarre, I remember so little from that time, never a full day out of those 6 months... And yet one song can dredge up so much that I apparently have worked relatively hard to forget.

We saw the western coast
I saw the hospital
Nursed the shoreline like a wound
Reports of lover's tryst
Were neither clear nor descript
We kept it safe and slow
The quiet things that no one ever knows

So keep the blood in your head
And keep your feet on the ground
If today's the day it gets tired
Today's the day we drop out
Gave up my body and bed
All for an empty hotel
Wasting words on lower cases and capitals

I contemplate the day we wed
Your friends are boring me to death
Your veil is ruined in the rain
By then it's you I can do without
There's nothing new to talk about
And though our kids are blessed
Their parents let them shoulder all the blame


I lie for only you
And I lie well
Hallelujah