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jane
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he has no idea the songs he shows me break me down, piece by piece.
when he was my lover, he showed me what i never thought possible. i would scream at night, alone, wishing i was older, wishing for his ring digit en dishabille, for his desire to inhale flame to dissipate, for his lungs to reclaim their rightful health, his body to become the child we never had.
sometimes, the songs were fun and happy, whimsical, or straight up rock 'n' roll. he was impressed with my knowledge of humble_pie and harry_nilsson - most of it just my ability to bullshit through a conversation...
(see_also: people's self-interest; introduce a subject and let them run with it, appear knowledgeable. repeat.)
arrive at the point where even the first chord of "i'm_on_fire" hurts my heart. followed by "sway", most of the big_star catalog, "st. cajetan", "life's a gas", "T.B. sheets"...even "gouge away" because of the video where they covered it with that other famous band from this city.
we fell out of love, and moved on.
recently he showed me a brilliant album with a brilliant song. i cannot stop hearing us in it. not because the song reflects us, or even myself, but because he showed it to me, and pointed out how absolutely genius the songwriting is. now, that album is forever tainted with the nostalgia of requited_love, when i would have killed to be with him.
does music affect others so strongly like this? are there songs others cannot listen to because they hurt too much? will i ever be able to listen to this without wishing i had written it, if for nothing else to be recognized and acknowledged by him...?
he may have ceased the smokes, but my heart never recovered.
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150501
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