Christmas Day

Hey, Everyone,
Well, Christmas is just starting to slip away. At least, it is where I am. But here's the thing, I've loved it so much this year. It's sad to see it go. Then I realize this: Christmas is a state of mind. It's a feeling. It's home. It's family. It's love. It's life. Since when does all that have to go away? The answer is never. So, I encourage you to make your New Year's resolution a mission to keep Christmas. Keep it old. Keep it new. Freeze it, heat it (even reheat it). Cherish it. Merry Christmas, everyone!
Love always,
Hannah

Something to Lighten Your Day

So, I, like most people, probably all people, have, on occasion, felt, well, shitty about myself. Excuse that language. Anyways, on one such occasion, I was pondering about my problems (really, they're other people's problems with me) and came across a handy dandy fella. He is known to Spotify as "The Sorry Apology Song Person". He is not on YouTube (unfortunately), but please, by all means, take five minutes out of your day (particularly if you're having conflicts with others) and do the following...

Create a Spotify account.

Search for The Sorry Apology Song Person.

Listen to any one of the songs on the album.

If you're so inclined, please listen to more than one.

Enjoy.

Sky Fall

Up ahead, I saw lights. And I knew. I knew, right then, in that very instant, that it was him. It was where he was.

            One warm, November night, I accompanied one of my closest friends on an excursion to the movies to see “Skyfall”, the action-packed continuation of James Bond’s escapades. After two large buckets of popcorn, handfuls of Hershey kisses, and frequent sips of soda, the movie finally came to a dramatic finish.

            My friend Sara’s mother picked us up at the entrance of the theatre. She lived nearby and I planned to stay there until my mother came to retrieve me, but once inside the car, the mother insisted on driving me home.

            We had only gone about 100 yards when my cell phone began to ring. It was my sister. I answered to hear her crying. When she spoke, I thought I heard her say, “I got into an accident.”

            “What? What happened? Are you okay? Where are you,” I asked her, worried and fearful.

            “No, Hannah. There’s been an accident. Jonathan Myers just got into a really bad car accident,” she told me, choking on every word as though it were swelling in her throat. I held my breath. I knew precisely what she was about to say and yet I still prayed, as many of us do. The moment lingered, and then dragged on and when I finally heard her words, they, themselves, prolonged like the echo of a blood-curdling scream.

            “He didn’t make it, Hannah.”

He… didn’t… make… it. He… did not… make… it. Jonathan… did… not… make… it.

I think I said something like, “What? No, this can’t be true. Are you sure? How do you know? No.”

Tears streamed from my eyes, inundating my world and clouding my vision and my thoughts. The moment was so surreal, so unreal, so unbelievable and absurd and preposterous and ridiculous and crazy and unimaginable and unintelligible.

At this point, Sara’s mother had pulled into the Chase parking lot. I hung up the phone. Sara asked me what was going on. Reluctantly, unwillingly, I told her. She made no indication of shock. In fact, she and her mother questioned the information, but I knew all the while that there was no possible way it could have been misconstrued. She was in denial.

Her mother asked me what I wanted to do. We continued on our way as I continued to sob. A couple of minutes seemed like hours and my tears stopped too quickly. My mom called and when I answered, I mentioned nothing of what had just happened. I told her nothing. I did my best to cover up my tears. I played into Sara and her mother’s strange way of dealing with something so obviously wrong and shocking. They ignored it and I followed their example. I let my mom know that I was on my home and hung up.

In a matter of seconds, I saw lights up ahead. Flashing lights. Blue. Red. White. And I knew. I knew, right then, in that very instant, that it was him. It was where he was. It was where he had been.

Let the sky fall.

Time Perception

 “Take them away. They shouldn't have to see me this way. Are they enjoying themselves?”

I'd always thought that my grandma would definitely be there at my high school graduation, college graduation, and even my wedding. She's someone who has just been there. In my eyes, she always would be.

About four weeks ago, my family and I visited her. She complained about awful pain in her back and strange spasms in her legs.

“I'm not doing that, Michael,” she insisted to my father. Her legs were definitely moving, but it was hard to tell if it was involuntary and we didn't want to offend her by denying her claims.

We stayed for a couple hours, trying to take her mind off the pain and get her to talk about her past. When she acknowledged her age, she shook her head, and, laughing in humored astonishment, said, “Things change.”

Two days later, Grandma was in the hospital. My aunt had brought her to a neurologist who admitted her. Nothing was certain as to what was the matter, but soon she was out of the hospital and in a rehabilitation center. We decided to go visit her there.

She was a different person. She was irritable, depressed, frustrated, and confused. At first, it was tolerable. We wheeled her to a brightly lit spot to talk. On other occasions when we had been there, the brightness was welcoming and cheerful, but this time it was white, sterile, and cold.

“Why did you come to see me?”

My parents looked at each other, exchanging their worry without words.

“Because we want to see you,” my mom explained.

“But why,” Grandma demanded loudly and coldly, attracting the attention of someone walking by. She kept her head down, barely lifting it to look us in the eyes.

My sister, who is five years older than me, had tears welling in her eyes. She knew five years more about Grandma than I did and it hurt to see her this way.

“Are you enjoying yourself,” she shouted to my sister, “Let's stop talking about this. Stop talking.”

But she kept rambling on, an endless string of hurtful and nonsensical remarks that I never would've imagined she'd say.

“Grandma, we just want to be with you because we love you,” I cried out, practically choking on tears that were forming. She didn't listen.

I wanted my grandma back. I wanted her to be okay. I didn't know if she would be. No one knew.

A week later, we returned. The doctors had discovered that her medication was changed and probably caused her disposition.

When we saw her, she smiled with delight, as usual, ecstatic that we had come to visit. She was still confused, but all was well.

I think it was that day when I realized that I couldn't take my grandma for granted anymore. My perception of time and how precious it really is changed.

Fort Myers Beach

Fort Myers Beach

Hannah Vuozzo

September 29, 2013

I remember

Like it was yesterday

Like you're not so far away

I want you

To sometimes think of me

Because you're on my mind constantly

Two years

And I must say I am shocked

In all this time, I haven't stopped (loving you)

A memory

It seems that's all you are

And yet I know when I look at the stars

You remember back in Fort Myers Beach

We were falling in love in the Florida heat

One night we gazed at stars in the sky

As I wished that you were mine

And that you'd kiss me before I had to leave

And that there'd be no end of you and me

What happened

You never wrote to me

We floated apart in a sea

Once in a while

You send a message in a bottle

And to me it becomes a fossil

I'll never

Know someone like you

It's a hard-to-face truth when I think I love you

And you say

You love me in a different way

But it's just that you're afraid

But you remember back in Fort Myers Beach

And you know you fell in love with me

It doesn't matter how long or how far

Because in my heart, I am where you are

And why didn't you kiss me before I left

And don't you know I'm the one that loves you best

I know it's been such a long time

And I'm sure without me you're living life just fine

But I know that during those Florida February nights

Something happened that you just can't always fight

You remember back in Fort Myers Beach

We fell in love the Florida heat

One night we gazed at stars in the sky

As I wished that you were mine

And that you'd kiss me before I had to leave

And that there'd be no end of you and me

And why didn't you kiss me before I left

And don't you know I'm the one that loves you best

You remember back in Fort Myers Beach

We fell in love the Florida heat

One night we gazed at stars in the sky

As I wished that you were mine

And that you'd kiss me before I had to leave

And that there'd be no end of you and me

And why didn't you kiss me before I left

And don't you know I'm the one that loves you best

Capo on third fret
Standard tuning

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Fort Myers and Fifteen (Part Three)

"I found something for you today." That was a text I received back up in my room. And then, "Leave your room, take the elevator down to the ground level, step out, and grab what's on top of the black box in front of you." Black box? What did he mean? I was eager to go retrieve my surprise, but I had to wait until morning. The next day I went downstairs, stepped out of the elevator, and there, on top of a black power supply box, was a seashell. I took it and placed it in my pocket. It stayed there all day long. I kept rolling it over in my hand, feeling all of the ridges and edges. It was such an endearing gift. It made me smile.

My parents decided to go to shopping outlets that evening and, of course, I was dragged there. That night it was much colder than I had anticipated and my light sweater did little, if anything, to shield my skin from a chilly breeze. We went into a couple stores and I picked out one or two things. After that, we ate a delicious dinner at an Italian restaurant in the shopping center. But I kept glancing at my phone or asking my parents what time it was. I was in a hurry to get back. Zach was waiting for me.

...

Fort Myers and Fifteen (Part Two)

The next day was cloudy, blustery, and cooler, but still nice, particularly by the beach. My parents and I set out to go to the village down the road. We stepped outside to go to the beach, and there, by the pool, was Zach, in a lounge chair. He had on sweatpants and a black and white/gray horizontally striped zip-up hoodie with ear bubs in his ears. He and I made eye contact, and I smiled, then looked away so my parents wouldn't pester me with questions.

Down the beach we walked until, after a few minutes, we arrived at a pier extending from the shops and plazas of the village center. We walked around, darting into the different shops. I found a maxi dress that I liked and bought it. We exited the store, turned a corner, and there was Zach, walking past us. Did he follow us there? I was perplexed.
The day passed by. We spent time with relatives and on the beach, but we migrated to the pool when the ocean breeze got too chilly.

Later, that night, we met again. And again, we talked and talked, enraptured by each other and locked into each other's eyes. The air had quickly gone border-line frosty. The ocean breeze was a Northeaster wind. I kept my feet in the pool, which was still pleasantly warm. I wore khaki pants, rolled up, and a yellow zip-up, hooded sweater. Needless to say, it was not enough clothing, but all I had.

At one point, I wanted to walk out onto the beach with Zach. We both got up, but at soon as the wind hit the water on my skin, I was shivering. I told him that I couldn't go out there. He laughed at me. And as I walked along the side of the pool, he playfully pretended to push me in. Soon, the night was over and I had to leave, reluctantly.
...

Fort Myers and Fifteen

 “You're like a character in a movie.” I reread those words over and over again in my head. I wish I still had them in front of me, on a worn piece of hotel notepad paper, in your handwriting. That was the only material thing I had from you. I still can't believe I let the most important piece of paper I had go through the laundry. I cried when I walked into the laundry room and saw the shreds scattered all over the floor. I thought that letter had immortalized our story, yet, now it is gone and, so, I find that I must immortalize our story here before you fade away into the past, like photos in the sun.

The night was crisp and clear. A light breeze off of the ocean wrapped its arms around me and I made sure to wear a sweater out to the pool area. Before I stepped out of the doors, my began to ring. My ex-boyfriend. I quickly went outside and picked up the phone. I noticed a figure sitting in a lounge chair beside the pool so, instead of sitting on the edge of the pool like I had wanted, I made my way to the dark beach. I was impatient with my caller. I reached the beach and the breeze was stronger, making it hard to hear. I ended the conversation hastily, practically hanging up on my ex-boyfriend. Back to the pool I went with my phone continuously vibrating in my pocket as my ex persisted to call. At last I was able to sit down and dip my feet into the warm water.

As I was sitting there, alone, I looked over to where I had noticed a figure. It was a boy who looked my age. Just as I was observing this, he looked towards me and I turned my head down. A few seconds later, I looked back up. His gaze had drifted to his iPod, but then, abruptly, his eyes again met mine. This time, I kept my gaze and eventually we both diverted our eyes away from each other. Still, I could tell he was contemplating whether to come over and I knew, somehow, that soon enough he would.

Out of my peripheral vision, I watched him get up from his spot and make his way over to me. I was in a minor frenzy, worrying about my appearance and trying to figure out the best way to introduce myself. But he had the first word. And it was “hey”. I looked up, smiling, and said “hi” in response. At first, he didn't introduce himself, so I asked him what his same was. He let out a little embarrassed laugh and told me his name was Zach.

“Are you okay,” Zach asked me. I was confused by this. “You looked kind of sad over here by yourself,” he explained.

“Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks,” I replied, still smiling. I was touched that he felt obligated to come over. He didn't seem like the type of guy who just went out of his way to talk to strangers. I invited him to sit down next to me and he seated himself a couple feet to my left. We began talking about how we each ended up there. He was on a family vacation. We covered the basics, too. He told me he was fifteen (so was I), from Massachusetts, going to be freshman (I was going to be a sophomore), played hockey and several other sports, and loved music (most definitely a love we share). I found out that he tried being on the swim team and his friends teased him, calling him “gay” for it. He quit (not for that reason). His parents owned a hotel in Massachusetts. He was Irish, very Irish, and I observed so much seeing his fair, yet in some spots, quite sunburn, complexion. He told me about how he went into the village center down the road and showed me a video he took of a juggler. He was surprised that I loved Rise Against, let alone knew of them. We liked a lot of the same music (he even liked country). He mentioned the song “Ocean Avenue” by Yellowcard. It sounded familiar. I love that song.

He was remarkably easy to talk to, and very cute. At one point, I laid back and looked up at the stars, with light trickling down to shine on us. I recognized the constellation Orion and showed him. He seemed starstruck, not because of the stars, but because of me. I, too, found myself enraptured by him. I didn't want to leave. In fact, he invited me for a swim, but before I could say yes, my mom called me and asked me to come back to the suite. We had been together for an hour. We exchanged phone numbers. He put himself in my phone as “Zach Baker I Love Him” or something like that (I wish I had never changed it).

I said goodnight and went up to my room and straight out to the balcony overlooking the pool. He was there below. I yelled down to him. He said he was going for a swim and as he enjoyed the water, we continued to talk. At one point, he pretended to have drowned, floating face-down in the water. I pretended to be angry with him, but said that if he really did start to drown, I'd rip through the screen covering the balcony and jump down into the water.

I noticed that he had a nice set of abdominal muscles (despite the sunburn, they were impressive). We talked and joked and laughed and smiled. I think it was that very night when I fell for him. At last, he had to go to his room and off to bed I went. Off to dream about him. And I'd never wake up.

...

The Two

I can see it even when she thinks it's hidden. The pain. I see it. The pain is as dark as the sun is bright. Maybe that's a little dramatic, but it's how we all feel. There's just something missing. Something not right about this whole thing. And obviously by doing something wrong, things become not right, but that doesn't mean they're the way things ought to be. Maybe she just felt so distant that things weren't focused. Maybe the love was a little blurry, a little foggy, through the many miles and endless rain. But it went from rain to thunder to hail. And the hail beats down mercilessly. All we want is the rain. To wash away things. To clean it up. To signify that time has passed and that the past is past.

You may think I am referring to something a little more drastic than a break-up, like, perhaps, a crime or an illness or a death. However, breaking hearts is a crime, being lovesick is an illness, and losing love is a death. She'll be alright. I love her so much. And if everyone else loves her as much as I do, we'll be able to fill in the gaps. "She will be loved." She is loved.

Woah. That was a little depressing. I mean, that's not to say this whole thing is just dandy, but it's not the end of the world, even if it feels like it to two people. I still think these two people should be together. I know she made mistakes. Both of them did. But the biggest one they'd make would be to stop loving each other. And if my suspicions are correct, they are never going to stop loving each other. They'll just love each other without hugs and kisses.

Oh, Jesus. I'm balling my eyes out. Damn it. they need to get back together. It's hard on us so I can't imagine how hard it is for the two. I loved them when they were "the two". That was when they were "the two that became one." Self, stop crying.

And now these country songs about lost love are playing. They say if you listen to country music, everything you've ever lost will come back to you. I wish they listened to country.

De Cette Façon (This Way)

Are you Superman
Cause it's startin' to seem
Like you're so damn perfect
That I'm lost in a dream
When I make a joke
You repeat what I say
I love that you laugh
Cause no one else gets me that way

You have a way with
Making me blush
It just takes one word and
I can't get enough
When you speak French
I bet all the girls want to faint
I'm the only one left standing
But then you blow me away

Chorus:
And I can just tell you get me
And you've got me
You'll have me
Please no goodbyes, just hellos
Bonjour
S'il vous plait
Cause no one else gets me that way

I long to see you
But you never have time
I'd be fine with that
If I could call you mine
To hold your hand
And wear your sweatshirt to bed
To have you close
Whenever I get upset

I know if you'd hold me
It'd be okay
And I'd never ever
Want that moment to change
You know just how to
Get me to smile
No one else has been able
In quite a while

(Chorus)

(Bridge)

(Chorus 2x)