Your Smile Is A Drug

I remember as a kid, I used to play with my dad’s VCR cassettes all the time. He had spent the better half of his college years recording whatever he could onto these tiffin box size devices and then there was me spending the better half of my childhood pulling the black ribbon out of the box.

Sometimes however when I wasn’t too hyper and actually managed to shove the cassette in the player and got it on, I would sit a foot away from the screen and just immerse in all that it had to give me. The retro times, the good life, the love years. All of that.

Your Smile Is A Drug by Patrick Park were one of the songs I had heard over and over again while growing up. I listened to it through junior college. I never really deciphered the song. I guess I didn’t smoke too much pot then. It never hit me. It never made sense to me.

Life is good; you’ll always experience it all. What you’re feeling is what I’m feeling, except that maybe I’d embrace it and you wouldn’t. How could what this man sang ever so soulfully and full of emotion mean anything to my almost wasted life?

It hit me. As hard as someone trying to break ice into smaller pieces for their drink. I made her laugh not because I wanted to act funny in front of her, not because I wanted her to know that I had a sense of humor. But secretly I wanted to see her smile. The smile she has on her face after she's done laughing.

I'd do anything to see her smile. Anything. Even if it meant letting her go to another guy.