I made a playlist for today’s gift. It has taken a lot of time to get it to sound the way I wanted it to (you know, not cheesy. I mean, I love cheese and I like cheesy music so this was difficult!). I started it the last day of January and I have been working on it in my spare time (see: when I should be sleeping). I have listened to it all the way through nine times.
I think it is done.
I will make it public when I send it. If you are looking at it this morning, it might not be. I am a bit sensitive to it, small bits of my heart are attached.
Fun fact, this playlist was made for an evening that turned out to be one of the enjoyable I have had. This one was made with a similar resolve but I never sent it (but other people have mentioned that I should have. I chickened out. I am not a heart-wearing-on-my-sleeve sort).
I am feeling slightly nauseated at the thought of sending this one so.
I mean it is just a nicety.
because we are just friends.
(This was scheduled for day 11 but things happened that made me send this playlist yesterday so it seemed silly to wait to post this until next week)
i remember one night, flickering through spotify, making a playlist that once would have been a mixtape or not as far back, perhaps a CD? i was careful with each song – it had to make me feel what i was feeling, amplified. i had to keep the genre, cardigan-wearing versus slashing guitars or men wearing more make-up than i did. it had a purpose and that purpose would have been lost with the elements of what i often listened to, with heavily painted black eyelids & many glasses of red wine. i did not want it to sound like fingernails scratching naked skin; i was looking for what love sounded like when the sun was going down (not what it forebode in yellow candle light). it took me hours, but when i listened to it when it was completed, i knew i had a propensity for finding the right song for the “right” person. it left tender spots behind. spots that i allowed to be exploited. “remember being young and knowing that you were in love based on nothing besides how your smile lingered even after you hung up the phone. that song that came on the radio that you did not even know you knew the lyrics to & you sang softly to yourself and thought, “man, this is going to suck coming down from”.” yeah.
You should have stuck with what you knew – scratchy synth shapes with dirty&stringy dyed black hair boys that know your pain. You left the pretty ballads to those girls that were gifted with smiles that were not contrived. Those girls that do not even know that they are privileged because they have always had everything. They think life is just like that.
You did nothing wrong, of course. This is just how your story was written.