My Love Was For The Music.
Sometimes I still think about my former “best friend.” Nearly a decade ago, and without provocation, she slammed me on Facebook and deleted me from her life.
I didn’t realize, in college, that she was a narcissist. I thought she was cool. Looking back, I see (now) that she had no ability to care about other people. But at the time, I was totally enraptured by her taste in music.
For a long time after the Facebook incident, I had a hard time listening to songs that reminded me of Bonnie. I would feel hurt and sad and eject the jukebox record or change the channel. But over the years I realized: what I liked best about Bonnie was, in actuality, the music we shared. My love was for the music, not the person.
I am incredibly sensitive to the lure of music because it helps me connect to people.
But I also love learning all about the songs I like: who sings it? what’s the official title? is it on the charts – and what number? what are the lyrics? who wrote it? who’s in the band? how old are they? what do they look like? is there a video? did the song win any awards?
This started when I was very young, and I liked a lot of songs. So I have a ridiculous amount of useless musical knowledge in my head. (I store it in the place where other people store their useful knowledge.)
So when Bonnie came along, and she introduced me to whole albums and bands that weren’t on the radio, I was awestruck. The music was called “new wave.” Now, the wave is old and tired. But at the time, it was glorious.
Bonnie would pull out album after album, playing song after song: Yaz, The Smiths, Talking Heads, The Cure, U2. We discovered Howard Jones, XTC, Depeche Mode, Prefab Sprout and INXS. So many bands were new when I was young! We drank – a lot – and we listened to music.
Music took on a whole new meaning for me. I listened harder after she pointed out a song’s nuances. But Bonnie was reckless – dancing madly on her bed, tossing albums like frisbees across her room. I was always a little bothered by the broken albums. I sincerely treasured the music.
And emotionally, I attached Bonnie to the music. This connection survived well past its expiration. I couldn’t think about certain songs without thinking about her. I’d spent years believing I loved a person just because I loved the music. But Bonnie isn’t a music guru, and she doesn’t own the songs we enjoyed together.
So now I turn on my jukebox filled with my favorite songs, and I play whatever I want. My musical tastes have expanded over the years, so I can play the old bands but new genres, new experiences, and new music has broadened my horizons. I have new emotional attachments, new favorite bands, and a new soundtrack to my life.
It makes me happy to think of this: the soundtrack of my life. It’s mine and mine alone, and I can love it every moment of every day. It’s an absolutely beautiful thing.