The first time that I heard Nirvana was in Jason’s bedroom. He was a year older and lived across the street with his very religious family. Jason had skateboarding magazines hidden in his room, and that’s where he heard about grunge. Nevermind had just been released and the whole world was listening to Nirvana. Except me.

And I didn’t like it. I went home.

Late in junior high, there was a school assembly, some kind of senior citizen awareness or appreciation thing. The seniors played a song that they liked and then we played a song that – apparently – us kids listened to. I’d never heard it before. It was Lake of Fire from Nirvana Unplugged in New York. Continued…

Before my sister got her first car, the only people I’d traveled with were my parents. That meant their music. So on long road trips, we listened to exactly five tapes: Rock and Roll Hits of the Fifties and Sixties, volumes one through five. I was raised on doo wop and Buddy Holly, and I loved it – but I knew there must be more out there.

Then my sister got her first car, and that meant her music. She had a few mix tapes from friends. Some songs were loud and chaotic, and others were soft and harmonious, but they were all unlike anything that anybody I knew was listening to.

She gave me the one that I loved the most. It was Bossanova by the Pixies. Continued…

She had safety mechanisms built into her personality, protecting her from being hurt by any outside force. When I met her, she let her guard down, became human. Our lust was mutual, and at the time, so was our trust. She let herself be beautiful, then. Continued…

There was more that happened that night.

We had been friends for many years, but we’d never been as close as that night. Both of us had the aura of alcohol around us while we laid on the trunk of my car staring up into the night sky. The beautiful thing of small towns is that you can actually see the stars; and it’s comforting to think that they can see you, too.

We had a long conversation out in the cold about constellations and life and love. To think that this person I regarded as a friend actually thought the same way as I did, that we were both experiencing similar things. To think that I wasn’t alone, that I could be seen as well.

Last night, I was the first one that he told about his life changing. I honestly never felt happier for him. And if he remembers that conversation we had that night, I’m glad that it all worked out.