You wrote to me a while back about sending me those first Three Songs. I listen to them frequently. I responded in kind and sent you some songs as well. I sent each one for specific reasons.
The first song that I sent you was “The Reason” by Hoobastank. I was driving in my car coming home from work when it came on the radio. We had just reconnected a few days prior, and I was still trying to process everything we had talked about. I was feeling a myriad of feelings – hurt, loss, anger, resentment, confusion, vindication (not proud of this one), anxiety, hesitancy, even happiness at finding you again.
I had heard the song before, but this time was different. I had to pull over because the music was haunting and the lyrics were overwhelming me. I felt like you were next to me holding my hand telling me to listen closely to the words. I felt shaky. My heart hurt. I listened and heard. I wept.
The next song I sent you was by The Calling – “Wherever You Will Go.” These lyrics were just as poignant especially the lines:
I know now, just quite how
My life and love might still go on
In your heart, in your mind
I’ll stay with you for all of time
It’s amazing how words put to beautiful music can have an effect on me. This song was no exception. This song hurt my heart too.
I sent you “An American Girl” by Bonnie McKee simply because I wanted you to remember with whom you were dealing (haha). I am a hot-blooded American girl, and you damn well know it.
I love the song “My Wish” by Rascal Flatts. I love most music genres which includes a bit of country. I knew I wanted to send you that song, because it’s how I feel. I want the best for you. I wish you all the good things in life. A couple of the lines in the song hit me rather hard though.
And if you’re faced with the choice and you have to choose
I hope you choose the one that means the most to you
To hear you say years later that you made the wrong choice, well that’s just a hard pill to swallow. You gave me no choice, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have always loved you. I want you to always remember the line “If it’s cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile,” because more than anything I wish for you to be happy. I always tell you to smile for me.
I remember you told me how this song affected you. I was a bit surprised, although I’m not sure why. I believed you though.
When I first heard the Betty Who song “Somebody Loves You,” I knew I wanted to send it to you, and NOT because she is Australian. I was thrilled you hadn’t heard it yet.
Somebody loves you Sir. Somebody always has and always will. I missed you when you were away. I never really thought we’d speak again. It’s still surreal to me.
My Musical Darling
As is often your want you have chosen an eclectic selection of tunes. Music has a raw beauty that the written word alone often cannot match. As you would send me more music I would add your selections to a playlist on my phone and depending on my mood I would stream my Darling’s mix.
I must confess to not keeping myself entirely current with contemporary music. I was actually only familiar with two of the tunes on your list above. The Australian artist, Betty Who, had entirely slipped under my radar. I enjoyed your choices and the lyrics were of course not lost on me.
The Rascal Flatts number I would have had little chance of discovering. I am not much of a fan when it comes to the country genre, but every now and then a song slips through that I can’t help but like. This quickly became one of those rarities. Again the poignant lyrics hit home, and the lines you highlighted of course resonated strongly with me.
“American Girl” I was not familiar with, but is has an incredible joie de verve and it neatly sums up your spirit in song form. When ever I picture you with that belligerent look on your face, I can see your jaw thrust out and your demeanour shouting at the world “I DARE YOU!.” Well this is my soundtrack to those times. I love it.
The remaining songs are just gut wrenching. I was quite familiar with them both before you sent them. However they had merely been background ephemera, and I’d never payed them close attention. When you sent them I hurt. In a way the circumstances of their arrival and what we were both going through at the time only added to the heartache. It was at some ungodly hour in the morning (something like 3.30am I think), and we were frantically texting; it was getting quite heated and emotional.
You were travelling to see a child off who would not return home for eighteen months. It was just a little over two weeks after we had reconnected, and we were both in the process of trying to come to grips with our contact. We were also catching up on the past fourteen and a half years of one another’s lives. What we had studiously avoided (or at least I had studiously avoided) was any mention of your current circumstances and what our collective future might hold.
I had a spate of wedding ceremonies to perform around this time. I knew I had one on the following day. I desperately needed some sleep, but I had become too agitated by our conversation, even though we were only text messaging. You sent me The Calling’s “Wherever You Will Go.” I remember crying at the meaning of the lyrics. You then sent me the Hoobastank number “The Reason.” I was literally sobbing uncontrollably, taking huge gulps of air between the physical manifestations of my remorse, my outpourings, and my tears.
You told me how they had affected you, then went on to explain why we could not be together. I had no right to expect that we should but all the same I became desolate. I said some stupid and some hurtful things, because I did not deal with the news at all well. These two songs will be forever associated with my own unforgiveable behaviour towards you. They had a profound impact in that realm alone. They will also always be a trigger to my receipt of some of the worst news of my life, that we were not to be together. Whenever I hear them now (and it is frequently as I often play your song list) that brutal moment of realisation hits home. My actions of almost fifteen years ago have come home to roost. It was my stupid choice to lose you then. But now there is sadly no choice at all as I know we cannot be.
I truly believed that we would never communicate again. After my most heinous of betrayals fourteen and a half years ago I left myself in no doubt that you and I had spoken our last words. Then at 1:25pm on Wednesday 18th September 2013 your hand reached out and you found me. I can be so precise because it was such a momentous moment in my life that I recorded in it my diary. The emotions of that day are very real to me and my heart quickens just thinking of them. No doubt they will be the topic of a future post but now I would like to share how I perceived you and hoped to find you over my fourteen and half years in the wilderness. After what I did I wanted to know that you were happy. Even though I had broken both of us and destroyed what we had together I wanted to see you thrive and I tried to take my pleasure from afar knowing that you at least had found contentment and satisfaction.
There were several ways I did this. Every adult on the planet has no doubt Googled some ex lover or childhood crush at some time in their lives. I did this to you and found some scant details of your life. I saw your academic record which we both know is quite impressive. More recently I found out that an important member of your family had been in an accident. My heart leapt out to you. It was one of the only times, if not the only time, that I actively considered making contact. The first article I read on the matter left me with a distinct sense of foreboding and I was not sure they would survive. I was sick to my stomach that I couldn’t offer any support. It made me feel even worse to know that my making contact would only make matters worse. Therefore it was with no small level of relief that I read a second article and realised your family member would recover, although they would not enjoy the same level of health they had prior to their accident. It was cold comfort however knowing that I daren’t make contact to help ease your distress. When I could find no new news on you or your family I would take solace in the online real estate section from your city. There I would peruse the nicer homes and look at the pictures and imagine us standing there side by side. A silly little affectation I know but it brought me no small level of happiness.
In reality the best that I could hope for, in my eyes, was to live vicariously through you. I knew I would never know true happiness again after my destruction of what we had. However I desperately wanted you to find it. If I couldn’t speak to you again then that would have to be enough. Now that we converse daily, often multiple times a day, in a variety of manners and on a variety of devices I have grown more greedy and selfish in my desires. Vicarious now does not seem nearly enough. I of course still want you to be happy, only now I wish to be an active part of your life in every sense of the word.
My darling, know that I love you with all my heart. Even though I was unspeakably cruel and hurtful I never stopped loving you and I never will. I could end this entry with “vicariously yours” but I shan’t. I just don’t want to believe that will be as good as it gets. Therefore I will end it as I have every other post thus far.
You briefly mentioned before that you had searched for me online over the years. This still astonishes me. Never in my wildest of imaginations did I think you would ever look for me or try to contact me ever again. I thought you despised me, hated me, and purposely cut me out of your memories and your heart. Harsh as it sounds, I believed I got what I deserved. I thought I was the world’s biggest fool. A friend’s opinion was that I had been used. That was like a dagger to my heart. Even though we’ve discussed this at length, it still hurts to write about. I think of the words and I am dissatisfied. I struggle to express my thoughts and feelings on this subject, but I shall try.
For a long time I never looked for you, but I’m certain I wondered. I was scared to look for you; I was frightened of being rejected again. I had been broken, and I could never have offered an olive branch until I was healed enough to hold it. That obviously took a long, long time.
There were, of course, other extenuating circumstances besides our own that added to my break down. They added to the lengthy healing period I needed for myself. Those are not your fault. You have graciously accepted accountability for your actions, but that brings me no joy. Quite the contrary, it adds to my personal pain. I hesitate (again) in writing how I feel because I know what it does to you. Others may have felt validation or vindication in your feelings. I, however, do not. People have agency and make choices every day. You are no exception. You had the right to make decisions for your life. Unfortunately for me, I suffered from an acute sense of loss, rejection, betrayal – you name it. You are not responsible how I was affected. That is how life goes. We learn and grow from our own choices as well as the actions and choices of others. It is life. You are too hard on yourself.
I only recently started writing again, as you know. I’ve shared with you a recent piece that explains that I had only just begun to wonder, in depth, how you were. (See poem – “Wondering“). That same friend suggested that maybe I needed closure from you. It was a novel thought for me that was planted and started to flourish in my mind.
I found you quite unexpectedly. I sat and stared at the web page not daring to believe it was really you; it was my Sir (although I would never have dared to address you as my Sir). I found videos of you playing the piano. My heart constricted and held tight. I couldn’t breathe. I clicked play and was instantly transported to years gone by. I replayed it over and over again. I searched your face. I drank in your hands and your fingers. I stared at your hair remembering how it lay against your neck. I didn’t know how to feel or think. I didn’t know what to say or do. I kept any real emotions under strict lock and key. I felt a myriad of sensations -a vortex that spun my world around and kicked my feet out from under me.
Then I found those numbers. They mocked me from the page. There was a way to contact you! Was it really that simple? In today’s world I could text you. Did I want to? I was so confused. I purposely did not react for days. After the reality set it, I concluded that I wasn’t scared to contact you anymore. I had disassociated from that emotion. Once I realized and accepted that schism, I was ready.