STAIND — “It’s Been Awhile”

Rock bands (the epitome of masculinity, some might say) getting weepy and sensitive (in other words, feminine) sells a lot of records. It’s crass, it’s sappy, and it’s often insufferable. But, then, there are those moments, when you’re vulnerable, and the lead singer from, say, Staind is working up a semi-convincing head of self-loathing steam, and then he says IT:

‘It’s been awhile, but I can still remember just the way you taste’

And I realize that it’s 4 o’clock in the morning, and I’m wallowing in some sort of romanticized stupor, thinking about Love and Happiness and Being With Someone, and I’m getting all sigh-ridden and mopey about the entire love business, the good AND the bad (because, of course, when you don’t have it, you begin to appreciate it, even the nasty bits, which help in making the good bits even better, of course). It’s 4 o’clock in the morning, and I am awed and stunned by this song, and I’m about one good blast of distortion away from getting something in my eye. That doesn’t happen, though — the song just circles in on itself, like a sad old dog chasing its tail, happy to just dwell on what’s gone and what’s out of reach. And now my bitter hands cradle broken glass of what was everything. So this is how it feels to be free.

It snaps me back to intimate moments, where I remember that taste, and I smile sadly, because I never realized that I could miss that taste until now. And I’ll try going to sleep, and not think about that sensation, and the warmth and closeness and tenderness, and maybe I wake up tomorrow feeling better about everything.

All because of a few stupid words.