This week I’ve been working on two very different songs about a woman’s struggle in relationships. They couldn’t be more of a 180 from each other, but what they have in common, is that they are both stories that a lot of women can relate to.
The first song is a sticky sweet teen pop song. It’s about that time in your life when you’re first dating; not knowing the rules, awkwardness abounding.
It’s a song that’s about going out on a first date, feeling butterflies, and getting your hopes up. When you’re a young woman, it’s easy to get your hopes up in a hurry.
You go out on a date, you find that you have a lot in common with him and butterflies are flying all around your psyche. He’s into you, and you’re into him.
Then the wait. All the books tell you that if it’s longer than 3 days, forget it. Haha! All the books will tell you it’s dead if he doesn’t call. He’s just not that into you.
This excruciating wait can be just that. Excruciating. You rack your brain. Should I call, should I wait for him to call, what about sending a text?
You stalk him relentlessly on Facebook hoping that he will post something about you. Some kind of hint or indication that he’s as into you as you are into him.
Weeks pass, nothing. You know that it’s over. You know that it’ unrequited. You swallow your pride and you give up all hope for this will be anything more then just a date.
Then the inevitable chance meeting. You’re out at the mall looking schlubby, grabbing a giant cookie in the food court, and then you see him.
What’s this? Oh my god he’s with a girl. Oh my god she has an engagement ring on her finger.
You skulk away to the dark corners as quickly and as unobtrusively as you can. He has a fiance. Not only that, he had one when we went out on our date!
Then you get pissed. You mean to tell me that this mother fucker asked me out while he was with somebody else? Not just anyone else, a fiance!
Then you know it’s your mission: to wipe his memory from yours. This scumbag does not even get the honor of taking up memory space in your brain cells.
It’s easier said than done, but you know it’s the only way to get even. Too bad feller, cause this Bitch is fucking awesome.
The second song that I’m working on is about a young mother who has 3 kids and an abusive husband. I threw in the fact that he is an oil rig worker as a nod to Louisiana.
The protagonist in our story is a mother, a single mother more often than not. Her husband spends weeks on an oil platform and she’s left to take care of their three young children.
There’s been years of hardship in her young life. But she keeps charging forward because she knows that three little ones depend on her.
She makes their breakfast, darns holes in their socks. Brushes their hair, tries to remember to tell them to brush their teeth.
Maybe our gal used to be a real looker. But the sheer weight of her responsibility has done a number on her face hair and eyes. Her eyes are tired.
One day when her husband is on leave from the oil platform, he tells her that he needs to run an errand. She is suspicious because every time he comes home from the platform he needs to run an errand at a particular day and time. It’s always very vague when she asks what errand he needs to run.
This particular week, she’s had enough. The littlest one broke her arm, her oldest one is going through puberty and the middle one seems to become a disembodied ghost anytime she tries to talk to him.
While the kids are watching their afternoon cartoons, our gal decides to do some detective work.
She’s always wondered about the neighbor that lives a couple streets down. She sees the way the neighbor woman looks at her husband, when they are all eating dinner at the neighbor’s place of employ, the local diner.
Our gal decides to run an errand of her own. She knows that her husband would be too smart to park out in front of the neighbor woman’s home so she walks up the alleyway and sure enough, she sees his late model Ford.
Of course he always leaves the keys in the ignition so she fires the truck up and drives it home.
Our wife and mother has had enough. She’s cracked. But the thing about our gal is she’s never been the strong, resilient type.
Her entire life has been a series of one disregarding moment to the next. Daddy didn’t care, mommy didn’t care.
She dresses her kids up and throws them in the pickup truck. She then drives to her cousin’s house and drops them off telling her cousin that she’ll be back in a few days
We all know what’s coming, but we don’t want to believe it. She stops by her old house and grabs a bottle of pills from an old appendix operation.
She stops by the convenience store and buys a six pack of Bartles and Jaymes. The only drink she likes.
She drives to the edge of town downs the 6 sweet beverages, and then downs the bottle of pills.
Two very different songs this week one of our protagonists overcomes and one our protagonists falls. Sometimes in life you win and sometimes you fail. Sometimes when you fail you can’t recover. And sometimes when you win it’s a bittersweet win, because you know you had to go through a difficult heartache to get to the other side.