Seventeen

Downtown hot spot.
Halfway up the street.
I used to be free.
I used to be seventeen.
Follow my shadow around your corner.
I used to be seventeen.
​Now you're just like me.

I watched the indie film Never Rarely Sometimes Always last night, a languorous and beautifully rendered devastation about a day in the life of a seventeen-year-old girl from the Trumpian parts of Pennsylvania seeking an abortion without parental consent by taking a bus to NYC with her cousin. It's a harrowing, deeply personal portrayal of the travails of living in a country with no healthcare access for far too many Americans, of anti-abortion religious zealotry that forces young women (and all women) from Republican parts of the country to go to horrible lengths for a basic medical procedure, and of the complicated nature of the procedure itself, in certain instances (like this one). A really good movie, focused almost exclusively on the two young women at the center of it, and I watched it largely because Sharon Van Etten's "Seventeen" plays over the trailer shown on my screen. 

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Down beneath the ashes and stone.
Sure of what I've lived and have known.
I see you so uncomfortably alone.
I wish I could show you how much you've grown
Downtown hot spot.
Used to be on this street.
I used to be seventeen
I used to be seventeen

Van Etten is actually in the movie, briefly, playing the mother of the seventeen-year-old who is unexpectedly and unhappily pregnant. But "Seventeen" doesn't appear in the actual film, which is OK. It did appear in the recent lesbian coming out Cyrano-esque comedy "The Half of It" on Netflix, and it was perfect there. It's a pretty perfect song. It was the #2 song in my (never released) countdown of the Top Songs of 2019. And the cover version featuring Norah Jones, released this winter, might be as good. Slows down what is already a pretty slowed-down song and makes it at turns haunting and heartbreaking and it echoes in my head this morning. Much like the movie.

I know what you're gonna be. 
I know what you're gonna be.
You'll crumble it up just to see.
Afraid you'll be just like me.
Downtown hot spot
Halfway through this life
I used to feel free
Or was it just a dream?
Now you're a hotshot
Think you're so carefree
But you're just seventeen

​So much like me.

When I was seventeen, if you had told me that someday I would (a) be in a relationship with a guy, (b) be in a 7+ year relationship with a guy, and (c) have just published a novel, I would have called you fully insane and also I would have asked you to make it come true, please please please, no matter what else bad might happen, and then you would have said, "well on your release date there's a pandemic happening and the only outside your house activity you've done for months is taking your dog to the dog park" then... sigh. Why do I bring this up in this particular blog post about a movie about abortion and a great Sharon Van Etten song? I'm not entirely sure other than it's been in my head--this song, this week, and what was supposed to be an amazing celebration (I got published!) and what was a pretty amazing celebration (Zoom release party!) became something a little less, a little disappointing, sadly, now that my dream was achieved but it wasn't really the massive thrill I'd hoped for.  Why? The virus? Yes, mostly. But also when you've waited 30 years for something, no matter how amazing you think it might be when you finally achieve it, and no matter how amazing your friends and boyfriend have been, supporting you, it still can't quite live up to what you've spent 30 years dreaming about.

Maybe the next novel I'll actually have an in-person celebration. Maybe even at a bookstore.

My 17-year-old self would like that I think.

But you're just seventeen.
So much like me.

You're just seventeen
You're just seventeen.