— Please Understand Me II by David Keirsey (via zestoftheday)
Hi Tumblr. Go easy on me. I’m just starting to write again after a long time. I wrote this short piece in about 20 minutes and I didn’t edit it.
Sometimes I have those days where I’m sure a band wrote all of their songs inside my head. That’s probably just because humans are naturally narcissistic creatures, but maybe a little bit because of all the memories I associate with the songs. When a hear a certain melody I am transported to a different time, a time when that song was on and something meaningful was happening or something terrible was happening or sometimes nothing was happening at all. The notes can be like a smile or a kiss or a kick in the teeth.
The first time I heard this particular band, I was with you. You told me they were one of your favourites and I wasn’t sure because I’m not one of those people who likes new things. I like my old things, the things that I already know and love. But I was falling in love with you and so I listened to your stupid band with the dumb song and sitting there with you in your room I loved that song. I even loved the dumb music video and I know you know how much I hate watching music videos.
There is nothing remarkable about the song. The lyrics don’t have any particular relevance to me or you or to anything we’ve ever said or done. If you take all the bits apart, the entire thing is meaningless. Put all together though, that song has a place in my heart and will always be there and whenever I hear it I’ll know that that one time we sat in your room, on your bed with the sheets that never stayed on, in the dark, listening for your mom to come up the stairs and tell us to go to sleep, and we listened to that song and you smiled because I liked it and I liked it because I loved you and I was happy even though you didn’t know.
From then on, the words to the songs by that band took on a life of their own inside my head. They were about us and the times we were together and the times we weren’t. They were about the every day moments when you made me smile or cry in my room, or the big moments when I was sure we were going to live happily ever after. You know how this story ends.
I told you about the concert because I love you and I liked them and you smiled because I liked them. I always thought we would be going together. It didn’t occur to me that there would be a time when you would listen to those songs, to that one song, and I wouldn’t be there. You got the tickets and I didn’t because you did and that meant that we would go together. Even though we hadn’t talked in a month, as the day of the concert came closer I got this little bubble in my heart that told me everything would be ok soon. I listened to their albums on repeat, even the one that I didn’t like because it was too different but you liked because it reminded you of the Beatles. I let the words take over my brain and give me direction on how things would turn out.
On the day of the concert I even picked out what I would wear. I had the clothes all laid out in my room because I know you care about that sort of thing, what everyone at the concert is wearing and for me it’s all about blending in with the crowd and not being noticed by the people on stage who sing the songs that mean so much to me. I would never want them to know how I pretended they didn’t exist and that the songs were just for you and me. I spent the day trying to remember to breath. I got ready for work. I left the house. I put on my headphones but I made sure I would still be able to hear my phone ring. I walked slowly. I was sure you’d come. I was sure you’d call. The time came closer and my heart beat faster and I could feel myself muttering the lyrics under my breath and I started to get closer to the sadder songs and feel them a lot more deeply than the happy ones. Seven. Eight. Nine. Show time.
Sometimes I have those days where I’m sure a band wrote all of their songs in my head. That’s probably because humans are naturally hopeful creatures. We get this idea somehow that things are going to work out and there’s always music, isn’t there? That first song always plays again and they all live happily ever after. But you know how this story ends.