There is a sneaking song in my life. It’s the one that consistently makes me turn to whoever is near and say emphatically, “I love this song. I just love it. And the music video.” I say it like I really know what I’m talking about and everyone should feel my heart pounding as the song starts.
Today the song came on the radio and I let my real confession breath. I confessed to the nearest chica that I don’t own the original love of this song. I confessed that I don’t really feel it’s mine to love. Truthfully, I only love it [my heart only beats its rhythms] because a boy introduced me to it, however many years ago that was. And now I confess that I love that and I hate that.
Love: I really do click with this song. It’s probably for the same reason I clicked with that guy. Not that he was piano-based and covered in ocean waves and angsty or anything. But he was real and honest and heartfelt. And that’s how I like to be. And that’s how I like my music. Hate: I wish I’d found this song on my own so that every time I heard it, I didn’t think of…him. He’s not with me; I have no leads on him these days. He legitimately checked out and that’s okay. And I hate the angsty vibe and the crying spirit it dredges up in me. Love: I love that I have a story with this song. However personal and tiny. However intangible and bittersweet. However many times it makes me sigh.
Augustana: Boston
Naphtalia 
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