oh t-t-timorous me

Me and Johnny sittin' in the green grass -
I don’t remember too much from that far back in the past,
But man, oh man, was Johnathan a laugh
In those days.
Apparently he was my very best friend -
We spent warm summer days wishing they would never end -
But I only know from photographs I look at
Every now and again.

And J-J-Johnny -
Ooh, all he left us was an apple tree,
And ooh, where'd he go, and ooh, why'd he leave,
And ooh, why do I grieve?

Now I don’t ever see Johnathan no more,
But my life rolls on just like it did before,
And I only wonder what it is
That I even miss him for.

Me and Timory holdin' hands -
I was shakin' hers, ‘cause she said she was a fan,
There was an awkward pause, and something that should’ve began
Just passed us by.
But I watched her sing along with every word,
In the prettiest voice that I never heard,
And I still see her dancing, wearin' my shirt:
Right there.

And t-t-timorous me -
All Timory left me was a memory.
And ooh, I was blind, and ooh, now I find
That I can’t see.

Now me and Jodi spend a lot of our time
Just sittin' in silence, driving late at night,
And maybe even wonderin' what’s on each other’s mind
This time.
But I know she’s like me, so I let it ride -
She’s dwelling in that quiet space left behind,
Where only peace can answer why,
And you abide
The birds must fly.

what would have happened if? should i have? was i right not to? oh "t-t-timorous me - all timory left me was a memory." ted leo and i have something in common - we're not quite sure of what could have been, and if it would have been better than what we have. what could have been still faintly reverberates in my mind and her name is timory. her voice is the prettiest voice i have ever heard, and the memory of her is so fresh that i can still see her dancing. right there.

but i'm not with timory. i'm with jodi. what could have been is somewhere else, while what is and i drive around in silence, not talking about our day or what we like. but i guess it's alright because she's like me. and like me she's not thinking about now, she's lost in "that quiet space left behind" - the place where timory lives.

where timory lives is a place of what ifs, could haves and should haves. it's a place where when you wonder why only peace can answer. perhaps my intent in writing this is to kindle that peace and reconcile what could have been with what is. perhaps it will be a way to recognize what could have been so that what might be won't pass us by. my hope is that the t-t-timorous me, who lets those moments pass by, will remain on the page, and the real me will be left to fulfill what might be. so here he will exist - a place other than between myself and what might be.