I never identified as one of those people whose lives revolve around music. I like music, love music, feel a large part of my day has a soundtrack at some point. But I never felt music the way true music-lovers did. I didn't try to learn about music, to know music from the inside out.
It wasn't until I met them that music began to mean something and then it wasn't something good. At least, not now. Music was so much a part of our lives, together. Making music, listening to music, singing to the music. And now hearing certain songs, certain bands I am immediately transported back to them, to that time. Never are memories as vivid as they are when I listen to Brand New or Say Anything.
I hate thinking about them but more than that I hate that its even an issue. I hate that they've attached themselves to my music like parasites. I want to listen to this without feeling swamped, without remembering what you did to me.
I dreamt about him the other night thanks to a song he used to play me all the time. It was a nightmare after the fact but it wasn't a bad dream. The memory of that dream alone leaves a rotten taste in my mouth.
Up the stairs, the station where: the act becomes the art of growing up...yeah right. Die young and save yourself.
No comments:
Post a Comment