Party 4 you

What is that bridge really about?: my interpretation (Go listen to it “party 4 you” charli xcx)

“Party 4 You”

Recently there has been lengthy discussion on what the bridge of “party 4 you” by Charli xcx truly represents. Charli herself has said that when writing the song, she was trying to capture the feeling of going to or throwing a party to see a specific person, only to realize after searching for them that they aren’t there. 

I myself have felt the same. I have gotten all dressed up, spent a generous amount of time picking out my outfit, doing my makeup and hair, only for the person to cancel at the last  minute or not show up at all with no communication. It feels shitty. It feels like a betrayal, even though it sounds insignificant. Yes, I still had a good night with my friends, but I wanted them to be there. I wanted them to see me. “Them” has been a myriad of guys. Maybe, not as many as you may think, but at least three different people. Regardless, the feeling is universal. It is part of the human experience: Anticipation followed by a rush of disappointment. 

But to me, the underwater sound of the bridge encapsulates so much more. 

Listening to it reminds me of saying goodbye. A parting moment that I’ve been dreading, finally coming to fruition. A final hug, tears streaming down my face, with no place to go but away–away from whomever you must part wirth. 

The first time I felt this fully was parting with my first boyfriend. For the sake of my own sanity I will refrain from mentioning his name. We spent the whole day together. It was perfect, if you ignore the pit that lived in my stomach for the six months since he had declared we wouldn’t stay together once he left. It felt like he had come to terms with leaving me behind, not wanting me to be in this next chapter of his life. I convinced myself I was okay with that. It took me seven miles running breathlessly to accept it. Or at least to pretend. 

He picked me up in his car like he always did. I couldn’t drive at the time. He was okay with that. He never complained, never insisted I get dropped off, despite the fact that his house was twenty minutes from mine. We had brunch at Cracker Barrel because neither of us had ever eaten there, and it just felt right. He ordered a full breakfast, toast, eggs, grits and all. I ordered the french toast. We played mini-golf. He let me cheat, watched me kick the golf ball into the hole with a grin on his face. He surprised me with dinner at my favorite restaurant–it had become my favorite since he took me there for Valentine’s day. I haven’t had a Valentine since; the bridge of “party 4 you” feels like that too, the realization that I haven’t felt love that deeply in three years. After dinner with three desserts, we went to his house. We watched a movie, I don’t remember which one, it didn’t matter. I was with him. He dropped me off at my house around 9. We stayed curled up in my sheets until 1. We hugged in my front yard for twenty minutes before finally getting in his car. We both sobbed. It felt like a secret, this intimate, intense sharing of grief that was just between us. He waited to pull out until I was inside my house again, not because anything would happen to me in my quiet town, it was just a gesture. A last kindness before we started a new chapter in our lives. I felt like I was drowning. 

When I had to say goodbye to my best friend, Spencer, I couldn’t let go. We had slept over at each others’ houses for days before she left for her freshman year of college. It wasn’t enough. She left before me, and though we were both moving away, I was brought back to the same moment a year before, like I was saying goodbye forever. The rest of my world was silent. It was just us, embracing each other with tears streaming down our cheeks, dripping off of our noses, tears that choked us, stealing the air from our lungs. I had a doctor’s appointment at 9. It was important. But in that moment, it didn’t matter. I needed to see her one last time before she left me behind. I remembered all of the memories we had made, the ones I had ingrained into my memory so I didn’t miss a single second. I remembered how fucked up we got at her house, how we smoked once her mom had gone to bed, how we sat on  the roof contemplating the meaning of life, the questions we had about the world, our innermost thoughts. We tucked our knees against our chest, fighting the invisible cold of summer nights, those times when you feel you should be cold, but humidity wraps you in its inescapable arms and doesn’t let go. Those moments I valued greater than our parties. But knowing that each party I would go to for the next year wouldn’t be with her, that stole the breath from my lungs. I was under water, unable to see the surface, unable to swim back up to the safety of oxygen. 

I carry these moments with me. While they might not specifically relate to parties, as the title suggests, the bridge of “party 4 u” is so simple to me; those moments when you feel like you’re drowning, they hurt, but they pass. As the song continues, it gets more upbeat. It reverts back to the high you get from intoxication and being surrounded by people you love. Those are what parties are to me at least, I don’t frequent large gatherings with strangers. Those moments, when Charli returns to her iconic persona, the always ready to go, the always down with a good time, those moments  make up for the times when you feel like you can’t get out of bed. Those moments when you want to leave and run away, those times where you want everything to pause and stay still for just one more moment, they don’t last forever. 

Disappointment and goodbyes go hand in hand. Saying goodbye can be one last wave to a childhood you know you have to leave behind. When it’s your turn to go out into the unknown, without the people you hold dearest. Because you find new loved ones, you find new chosen family. And those people that you’ll love forever, most times they stay in your life. Most times you party with them again. I’ll return to the one section of Spencer’s roof, right outside her bathroom window, where everything is flat. Where we bring blankets out to fight off that invisible cold. We have the summer together, and when we part again, it hurts, but not as bad. We find joy in the new experiences we have separately. We tell each other all about them. 

While I will never get those moments back with my first love, my life has continued on. The bridge of “party 4 you” encapsulates those moments where you are overcome with disappointment. But the bridge isn’t the entire song. It’s one little piece of a larger experience. The song plays again and again, just like the ebbs and flows of life. The sun still rises, the water settles, and I learn to live with my head above the water.