The Realm of Possibility Read online

  Right here …

  Right here …

  track three: my history

  the first time I kissed someone

  my heart raced for hours

  I didn't know if I'd ever recover

  if it was already too late.

  I just lay in my room

  and reveled in the newfound power

  that a motion so small

  could have the full force of fate.

  it wasn't love that time

  more like experimentation

  I had to wait some time

  for something more real.

  some kisses I found

  were pure lamentation

  and other lips I touched

  for something to feel.

  you are not the first girl

  that I have fallen for

  and I know I'm not the first girl

  that you'd ever choose.

  you are not the first girl

  you are not the first girl

  to have led me to longing

  but you could be the first girl

  I don't manage to lose.

  I'm not good at relationships

  I always manage to find the flaws

  sometimes in others

  but mostly my own.

  I foretell the ending

  then go and create the cause

  save mysefl

  and end up alone.

  the last time I kissed someone

  my heart felt this loneliness

  I didn't know if I'd ever recover

  if it was already too late.

  I just lay in my room

  and wrestled with the emptiness

  an emotion so big

  it had the full force of fate.

  you are not the first girl

  that I have fallen for

  and I know I'm not the first girl

  that you'd ever choose.

  you are not the first girl

  to have led me to longing

  but you could be the first girl

  I don't manage to lose.

  I'm telling you this because you've made it different now.

  I'm telling you this

  because you caused something to live.

  back came

  the feelings I would not allow.

  back came

  my chances to give.

  I'm not good at relationships

  I always manage to find the flaws

  sometimes in others

  but mostly my own.

  I foretell the endign

  then go and create the cause

  save myself

  and end up alone.

  you are not the first girl

  that I have fallen for

  and I know I'm not the first girl

  that you'd ever choose.

  you are not the first girl

  to have led me to longing

  but you could be the last girl

  I don't manage to lose.

  track four: open heart night

  It's open heart night at the Claire d'Lune

  and I'm hoping real bad just to see you soon

  To see your face as you walk in the room

  so I can wrestle you down with an open heart tune

  If the spotlight's on me, will you look to the dark?

  If I sing my arrow, will it hit its mark?

  We all wait our turn to get up to the stage

  Guitars at the ready for minimum wage

  Just the chance to sing it like it never will be

  Looking to unlock you with a major key

  If I shout it, will you hear?

  Can my chords bring you near?

  Hear me, please hear me

  Calling to you from open heart night

  Come in, sit down

  And be my audience tonight

  I plug in my amp and scan the crowd

  The din of the talking is growing so loud

  Familiar faces are plain to see

  But not the one that means it all to me

  So is it that you've got other plans

  Leaving me here with all the other also-rans?

  It's open heart night at the Claire d'Lune

  and I'm hoping real bad just to see you soon

  You won't come when I call, but I'll call 'til you do

  This open heart night won't ever be through

  No, this open heart night won't ever be through

  track five: the ride home

  just when I think I'll never reach you

  you see me and offer a ride

  it's well past midnight, we're at the same party

  I wasn't planning on leaving

  but I do

  as we're walking outside

  I hear my friends fade behind me

  megan saying be careful

  alice saying just go

  you unlock my door first

  and ask how I'm doing

  then say that you're sorry

  you missed my show

  the engine is revving

  the headlights are beaming

  and I find that I'm losing

  my hold on the thread

  that binds us together

  that ties me so tightly

  that keeps me attached to

  the things left unsaid

  we drive for miles

  and I get nowhere

  we drive for miles

  in the dark we drive for miles

  you're taking me home we drive for miles

  in the dark

  lit by the streetlamps

  your face is a moonstone

  the glow of the dashboard

  seeps through my hand

  you ask me some questions

  and I give you some answers

  but nothing that would make you

  understand

  the speedometer's counting

  all of my chances

  the radio is playing

  songs I cannot sing

  I am moving my hand

  I'm crossing the distance

  but leave it halfway

  inexplicable thing

  we drive for miles

  and I get nowhere

  we drive for miles

  in the dark

  we drive for miles

  you're taking me home

  we drive for miles

  in the dark

  your eyes on the road

  you move your palm onto mine

  you press down like salvation

  then lighten your grip

  a glimmer of smile

  as we drive on together

  I measure the moment

  in the heartbeats I skip

  it doesn't last long

  the steering wheel turning

  I see my house

  as your hand retreats

  you don't seem to realize

  what it is that has happened

  as you drop me off

  on the side of the street

  we drive for miles

  and I get lost

  we drive for miles

  in the dark

  we drive for miles

  you wish me a good night

  we drive for miles in the dark

  we drive for miles

  I follow your taillights

  we drive for miles

  in the dark

  we drive for miles

  and I'm left nowhere

  we drive for miles

  in the dark

  track six: thirty questions

  what do I mean to you?

  why are you mean to me?

  is this a fantasy?

  is anything real?

  why can't I be with you?

  what will you say to me?

  why can't I walk away?

  will you please stay?

  why can't I fall for

  someone who'll love me?

  why isn't anything

  I do good enough?
<
br />   why does the sight of you

  make me start trembling?

  will you please be the one

  to save me from you?

  why did you hold my hand?

  why won't I let you go?

  who do you think you are,

  to do this to me?

  is it all over?

  is it only beginning?

  why do I miss you

  when I see you each day?

  how can I reach you

  if you won't even notice?

  how can you say that

  he's even your type?

  why do I long for you

  when you are so wrong for me?

  what is the purpose

  of this kind of love?

  does it ever get easier?

  is there an end to these questions?

  do you have any answers?

  will you say them to me?

  can you stop this unraveling?

  will you bring me your closure?

  or am I the only one

  who sees anymore?

  who sees …

  who sees …

  who sees?

  track seven: it's all wrong

  he brings you flowers on an orange tray

  you pass him notes when he's not looking

  he fills your bag with candy hearts

  you feel him watching as you walk away

  it's all wrong

  I don't know how to hold it

  it's all wrong, today

  you are asking me if I'm okay

  then go on before I answer

  you're telling me there will be someone

  then tell me how he's brightened your day

  SEE THIS SCREAM-IT S FOR YOU

  SEE THIS HURT-IT' S BY YOU

  SEE THIS MARK-IT' S FROM YOU

  but you don't see, no you don't see

  it's all wrong

  I don't know how to hold it in

  it's all wrong, today

  I search out silent corners

  stare at the blank pages

  drink messages in bottles

  make vows I always break

  pretending to be happy

  so hard it starts to hurt me

  so loud no room is quiet

  so silly because I know, of course I know

  it's all wrong

  there is no point in holding

  it's all wrong, today

  I see the hurt

  I see the mark

  I see the signs

  there's nothing I can do

  there is a time he'll say “I love you”

  there is a time you'll say “I love you” back

  track eight: finale

  All alone now.

  Try to know how.

  Reach for stars and touch the air.

  I was made for this.

  Nothing else but this.

  Find the beauty.

  Shirk the duty.

  Trace the footsteps in the rain.

  I have gone through this.

  Nothing else but this.

  Won't recover.

  Lost a lover.

  Saw the angel lose her wings.

  I will hope for this.

  Nothing else but this.

  Open doorway.

  Looking your way.

  The breath before the plunge.

  I have come to this.

  Nothing else but this.

  Drawn to what I miss.

  Nothing else but this.

  On the Inside

  that night I told you to be careful

  in the way I could not be careful myself.

  you left the party and I walked from drink to drink

  wishing the best for you, knowing it was the worst for me.

  it is a horrible wonderful thing to be in love with you.

  to get to hear you sing for hour after hour

  but never be the subject of the song.

  to listen and listen and listen.

  I carry your equipment to gigs.

  I am your ride home, your calendar.

  I let you choose the radio station, the time.

  and in return, yours is the only goodnight I ever need.

  I've lost track of where friendship ends and falling begins.

  (this is the foolish refrain of the hopelessly devoted.)

  there are times I want to kiss you midsentence.

  undo the not-doing with one gesture.

  but I hesitate in the wondering.

  she's taken the place that was never mine.

  you and i have our sad misdirected love in common.

  only yours sings out, while mine is a voice left on the inside.

  I bide my time, pick at the petals, play the good best friend.

  you ask me what I'm looking for, and I outline you.

  you don't recognize the shape, offer other names.

  you say my time will come, and I hope.

  I know this is how the world works.

  it would be funny, if it wasn't my heart.

  she is the weakness you think of as strength.

  while I am the strength you have no idea is there.

  I am the one who knows who you are.

  I want you to be happy.

  and you could be

  with me.

  two

  Tyler

  Anton

  Gail

  Jill

  My girlfriend is in love with Holden Caulfield

  My girfriend is in love with Holden Caulfield and it is driving me CRAZY. She has read that book thirteen times, which is about eleven more times than she's bothered to read me. Everything she sees now is PHONY. Starbucks is PHONY. Our teachers are PHONY. Society is PHONY. And love-well, love is the phoniest of all. At first I tried real hard to argue, but that made me one of THEM and not HIM. She tells me he is sweet because he wants to stop all of the little children from running off a cliff. And I say can you possibly think of a situation where a group of children would be running towards a cliff? And she says I just DON'T GET IT. Which is her way of saying she just doesn't get me, and how I can get everything so wrong. Not like Holden, who would be like seventy years old right now, but is frozen at this age that I can't wait to leave. She says she misses being a kid, just like Holden misses riding the carousel. But what's going to stop us from getting on the carousel, from sledding at midnight, from candy and crushes? Just because we're having sex doesn't mean we can't kiss. Holden is a failure with girls, and my girlfriend says that's because he hasn't met the right girl, one who'd UNDERSTAND him. She says this the same night we argue for an hour about the fact that I always say “I love you” before she does. I leave the room to sneak us some drinks and when I get back she has THE BOOK out, read so often that it's spineless. Whoever made the cover blank knew what he was doing, because what image of Holden could be stronger than the picture in my girlfriend's head? We've been going out for five months now, sleeping together for two, fighting over who loves who for one. I used to love that she could love a book so much. It was her first present to me. I told her I loved it, when what I really meant was I loved that it was from her. Then I made the mistake of CRITICIZING. I said that Holden seemed pretty sad and she said, yeah, that's because his brother died, and I said it wasn't just that kind of sad. She said maybe it took a certain kind of person to see the truth in it, and because I loved her even then, I said she was right. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought less of it, and the more I thought less of it, the more she thought less of me. And I began to think less of her for thinking less of me. If I took up with hookers, if I drank my daddy's money away, if I ridiculed everyone, it wouldn't be charming. She wouldn't love that in me. And, yes, Holden would keep those kids from falling off the cliff, but WHO WOULDN'T? Does she think I would just fold my arms or give them a pat on the back before they sailed headfirst to the ground? We are all catchers, and it's sad that she doesn't see it. Instead she sees the PHONINESS, she deplores the world even a
fter I point out that

  I am in it. If she were running through the rye, if she were headed toward that abyss, I would grab hold with every ounce of my strength, with every scared beat of my heart, with every thought that could only be for her. And if I were to be running the same way, I'd like to think she'd do the same. But maybe her hands would be busy holding the book. Maybe she wouldn't see me, too intent on looking for Phoebe from the carousel. Or waiting for Holden to hold her, to wrap her in the pages of his arms, to say she was the only one who truly knew him, as I plunged past her, sad to be leaving, and a little happy to be away.

  suburban myths

  there are alligators in the sewers of Bloomfield Hills, and if you're coming home late from a party-at, say, two in the morning- you have to be careful because that's when they lift the manhole covers and go to Blockbuster to get videos to watch while they're underground the next day. there was once a Blockbuster cashier who tried to charge an alligator late fees and they found his body the next morning bitten in twenty-three different places. his blood came out the faucets