All That's in a Cigarette

I actually haven’t heard this song, but as far as lyrics go, I really, really like them. It’s called “Fa la la” (there might be a few more La’s there) by the Kooks:

I don't care and if I have to
I'll read your books
Cause they'll remind me of you
And I'll learn your notes
So that I have a clue
And I'll watch your films
So I'll know them through and through
And I'll do the things that remind me of you
And I'll wash my hair in your shampoo
And I'll buy your perfume
And spray it round my room
And I'll smoke your cigarettes
So that I'm dying too
And I'll call you up

Am I sane?

My absolute favorite part is the bit about the cigarettes, hence, of course, the italics. Because it reminds me of how I’ve felt about people for a long time. How I’ve felt about almost everyone I’ve loved intensely in my life. First, the Mundy’s (my twin childhood best friends from grade school) picked up the nasty habit, and now almost all my old friends smoke. My mother has smoked since the day I was born, and before, even for a few months while she was pregnant. My sister has just started too. And I’ve just slowly watched them all make all these grandiose mistakes, and do all the things that are bad for them, that will land them in a bad place years down the road, or next month, or maybe even tomorrow.

Smoking is symbolic. Symbolic of the stuff I wish I could save other people from, and myself from in the process, but instead, I just end up watching, and wasting away along with everything else around me.

The loving part comes in -- the notes, and films, and shampoo, and perfume, -- it comes from the good stuff. The songs I can sing with people to, the movies we can watch, and laugh, or cry at, and the scents we bombard ourselves with in the morning, if we so choose. But, no matter what, in the end, the relationship is self-destructive.

It’s taken me a long time in my life to love people who I know are productive for themselves most of the time (because no one can be 100 percent always), who work hard, are going to school, want to make a life for themselves. I’ve managed to make a few great friends that I think fit this description, and I consider myself more than a little bit fortunate for that. I don’t crave dysfunction anymore, or at least not completely, and that is a step.

I’m still looking, though. Still looking for it in the romantic sense. Who’s going to want to stay and make a life with me? I find myself perpetually afraid that because of all my baggage, I am too tainted to find love that is pure. That no one would want to touch the hard stuff I come with. That no one will ever want to be that personal.

I could just keep it all to myself, but does that not defeat the point of knowing someone? Knowing all of them. How they got here, what they’re scared of. Isn’t wanting someone about wanting the dark recesses of their soul along with the light. I want someone who isn’t afraid of me, who I can’t make uncomfortable even when I try. Who can take the dark stuff and light it up, make me laugh, even when I’m trying not to.

But also, to create something new with. Something that isn’t tainted and memories that do not hurt. Pure light that doesn’t have to be enhanced, but just is. Will anyone want to both know my past and make a brighter future? I hope so.