Crying to Ben Folds

Thursday morning. 8:49 am.  Stop and go traffic.

A song starts playing on your iPod, the intro unfamiliar, yet the voice so clearly penetrates layer after layer of your subconscious and strikes the center of your heart. Kill shot. You know exactly what this is.

This is a Ben Folds ballad. Doesn't matter which one, they're all good.

Briefly, your mind darts back to that one conversation around the dinner table you had with two of your closest friends when Ben Folds happened to come up in conversation.  "I'm not going to lie," you remember starting, "The man makes me bawl like a baby sometimes."

"Oh... I know," Your friend nods her head in agreement, then looks up sheepishly, "Sometimes, I just lie awake at night with my headphones.  And I don't even know why, I just start crying. I have nothing to cry about, but it always happens when I'm listening to Ben Folds."

Words cannot even describe the warmth that spread all over when you realized you were not the only one who experienced emotional trauma at the hands of a Ben Folds ballad.

As your mind turns over that memory, you find yourself thinking, "Don't start crying."

But it is too late.

Suddenly the words come crashing over you.

"I love you more than any man has loved before.
I love you more than all the stars up in the sky.
I think that we should settle down and live happily forever after
What do you think of that?" (One Down, Ben Folds.)

Boom. Water works.

Why?

Isolated, the lyrics aren't even that great.  Just reading them off the screen sounds a little lame, but gosh.  It's all in the set-up folks.  Preceding and following these lines is a song purely about meeting a lyric deadline, and complaining about whiny musicians in today's music industry.  Suddenly these lines hit you like a brick wall out of nowhere and it knocks you so far over that you have no choice but to burst into tears.

Or that's all that I was left with, anyway.

Needless to say, any morning started by a case of the cries while moments away from arriving at work is never really a good morning.  To top it off, a migraine has been a-brewin' all day long in this silly head of mine, so most of my workday was spent cradling my forehead in my left hand, feeling my temple throb in the most unholy of manners, while turning off all the lights in the office with my right hand because they are too damn bright and that is most annoying.

Brighter than the office track lighting, however, is the inevitable change that is coagulating on the horizon. Yes. Coagulating.

Suddenly, I'm being forced to actually plan my life farther than 6 months down the road and I'm learning some things about my decisions that have surprised me.  I don't want to give a lot away, right now, so forgive my vagueness- just know that it's a good sort of surprise.  It's kind of like finding something you didn't know you'd lost, but now that you've found it, you realized you've been missing it terribly all along, "Oh, there you are."

Still, the winds of change are starting to twist and turn and there's always that feeling of loosing your footing. I think, in a way, I'm looking forward to loosing my footing for a little while.

I can feel my identity starting to move forward into a new phase of life, and I'm running, breathless, to keep up with it.

There are still a few constants, however.  People that will always stand beside you, during every horizon of coagulation. I've been reflecting a lot over the past week about these people in my life and I can say right now that it's hard to find the words to express my gratitude for having them by my side.

They're the kind of people who know you better than you know yourself.  When you're tapping your foot idly, they know that you're frustrated about something because it's impossible for you to sit still when you're frustrated.  Then they confront you about it, and you vehemently deny it, and stop moving your foot- all the while not realizing your fingers have started tapping involuntarily in place of your foot.  With a gentle smile, they motion to your hands. Oof.  Point proven.

They're the kind of people who grab your hands on days when you are at your lowest level of self worth, and they force you to look into their eyes, while they proceed to tell you exactly why it is that you are special, and why you should love yourself better, the way they love you.

They're the kind of people who no matter how far away they are, you can feel immediately close to them by just spending an afternoon on the phone with them while researching international volunteer programs.  You don't even have to talk to each other. They're just there, at the other end of the phone, and you draw comfort from that.

They're the kind of people who love you enough to tell you the hard things, the gritty things, the things you don't want to hear, but you need to hear.  They're not afraid to kick your ass when it needs to be kicked.  Those are the people you need in your life.  Of course, if you're as lucky as I am, they'll kick your ass and offer you homemade cookies or lemon cake at the same time, because they love you and they don't want to see you hurting.

I've been blessed with a happy few individuals who have been there for me in immeasurable ways for the past four or five years. They have stood with me through the silt and the sludge of turbulent teenage years, and they have allowed me to walk beside them during their toughest moments, as well.

History is not something to be taken lightly, you know?  When you have years and years of memories compiled with people that you love, treasure that.  Take care of it.  Be good to it, because there's nothing worse than having to start over.  There's nothing worse than loosing those people because you've taken them for granted, or you've assumed that everything in your relationship is hunky-dory when it's really not, because they could be falling apart.  You could be the straw that breaks the camel's back, and their world could be moving on without you.

They're the kind of people you love so much, that a silly song on the radio or a commercial on TV can catapult you into an emotional roller coaster of soaring joy and overwhelming love-that-is-so-deep-it-hurts because it reminded you of them, and their impact and their presence in your life.  Hold onto those people.

I plan on holding on so tight to mine.

My kind of people who will listen to Ben Folds with me on repeat and not only forgive, but accept my silent waves of tears caused by a silly adoration of a Southern pianist with a gift for sass and poetry.

Which, to bring this completely full circle, I just have to add that on my way home from work tonight I found myself crying, again, to Ben Folds, but to a different song this time.  Thus, for the second time today, I found myself crying to Ben Folds, and that, honestly, has to be a new record.

For those of you who have been there for me, rock-bottom and sky-high, thank you.  I love you.

Always.

Finished Business

Music is powerful, yeah?

I tend to be most impacted by music and people.  Whenever I meet especially life-altering people, I have a tendency to immortalize them forever in my conscious and in my heart by creating mixed tapes or playlists that breathe their lives into music form.

I have a ridiculous history of doing this with past loves.

It's a very intimate experience, I think, creating a mix for someone who means a lot to you.  The intimacy which goes into hand-picking a selection of songs tied to memories with this person, or tied inexplicably to this person's character, is very powerful.  I feel that it creates a lot of vulnerability. 

Somehow, with all of these mixes that I've made over the years for a myriad of different reasons, I found that I've been able to capture the essence of these humans strikingly well, in my opinion.

It's similar to treating people like movies.  If this person was a movie, what would the soundtrack to their life be, if I was the one directing their movie?

Even though the circumstances surrounding your relationship with and to each other may change dramatically, and even though the pedestals you placed them ever-so-carefully upon may crumble for whatever reason, these people are still alive to you exactly as they were in the moment you made that playlist, every single time you listen.

That is magical.

That is powerful.

Sometimes, that can be dangerous as well as painful.

I experienced some of that spark and burn this morning on my way to work.  Sometimes when this happens, you just have to write a letter. Sometimes that letter can feel like closure- and at other times, that letter can just simply say "I'm sorry."

This is my letter today.  no background on the where or the why- I'm choosing to share this personal letter publicly, and therefore I don't feel the need to explain myself.

Your understanding is deeply appreciated.

I still run to you in my dreams.

I still run to you even when I'm not dreaming.

Despite the large amount of days that have passed since those moments we shared, I still remember how everything felt like magic with you.

With the numerous days, a tidal wave of change has brought closure to what happened, and new feelings for something and someone else, along with a newfound respect and appreciation for what took place between us, and the way it's been finished, completed- neatly folded into a box and delicately placed somewhere in the attic of our souls. It's over.  No hard feelings.  No more push and pull.

Even still, sometimes.... Sometimes, I escape to the quiet solitude of my car, and I hit the "play" button on a playlist of songs that represent so many experiences you and I shared. I sink below the surface, lost in the ocean of my memories with you, and I find myself wishing somehow that you and I... Whatever we were, whatever we had.... I wish it still had a pulse.

But that's wrong. And I know it's wrong.  And I'm sorry.

I've been a little fragile lately- if I may take the time to explain myself.

Full of emotion at the revelation of deep, unforeseen feeling towards something else, something beautiful and good....  Something much, much better than you and I.

And also, I am full of shame.

Because you are a human being. I am a human being. And I cannot keep trying to control the way I feel toward you.  I definitely cannot keep trying to control the way you feel toward me. I'm sorry that I ever thought I could try.

Not to mention I know full well that it is certainly and finally over.  Which, if I can be totally honest, is a good thing. It wasn't healthy.  It may have been organic, but it wasn't actually healthy.  We learned.  We grew.  God knows we shouted- I shouted.

And then we tore.  We ripped.  It came down in glittering shambles around us- and that was it.

But the vulnerability was real, and it was raw, and I cannot thank you enough for that.

You have no earthly idea what that meant to me- how it changed me.

How I'm still recovering and adapting. 

How this heart has been disfiguring and untangling itself from you, and how even though sometimes the reality of you and I never moving forward still makes me catch my breath and falter ever-so-slightly, I wake up each day thankful for the fact that we never will move forward.

I wake up thankful for the whole experience.

Thankful for your respect, though I'm not sure I deserve it.

Thankful for the faith you've always had in me.

Thankful for the openness of mind and heart you've always gifted to me.

Thankful for your sympathy, your sliding, your hugs, your hand and how it rested on my knee in a quiet moment of encouragement, your godforsaken pride and your damnable, unforgettable confidence.

Also, the walls you let down around me.  I feel so honored by that.

Above all, I'm thankful for your silence, because that was the most gentle method for leading me into the truth that you could have ever used- even though I hated it at the time.

So maybe I'll start returning the respect and the faith.

Maybe I'll stop listening to those songs for awhile.

I used to think, many months ago, that you and I would always be unfinished business.

That's not true.  The books have been settled, the transactions complete- the business is finished.

Thank God for that, right?

If I could leave a few words to you to guide you forward as lights along the way, I would leave these words, because they represent exactly what it is you taught to me- and I'd like to think I did somewhat of the same for you.

I'm not saying that we were soul mates- mostly because I can't honestly say that without bursting out into a loud, clap of laughter. Let's get real, here. But these words about soul mates smack me in the face everytime I read them, because I just picture your face... And I'm thankful for that, too.

"People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.  A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a true soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave.  A soul mate's purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in... and make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life."
-Elizabeth Gilbert

Thanks for filling that role for awhile, whatever the title is.

See you around sometime, maybe.