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Every Damn Song Reminds Me Of You

The Unfortunate Reality of How My Love for Rock Music Was Rekindled

By Marla FelipePublished 6 years ago 6 min read
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Photo Credit; https://s3.favim.com/orig/41/couple-cute-guitars-house-music-Favim.com-347778.jpg

It was my first week of business school and I had finally started to find my place and make some friends. The group I found myself in was a smorgasbord of people, a fact we realized as the years went on and the reason some of us drifted apart. Despite any eventual parting, I was lucky to have them. I felt stronger than I ever had before, having just moved continents away from everything I had ever known. I was finally the young independent woman I had always dreamt of becoming...

Having said that, this story is (partially) about a boy. A boy, nay, a man that took my breath away and made my legs feel like jelly the first time I saw him and continues to do so to this day. To add further insult to injury, said boy makes me laugh and is annoyingly funny. The feminist in me was infuriated with how easily I fell for him, as was the human inside of me... because this was unrequited love in its prime (if you can even call it love, which I think is questionable feat at best).

Back to the first week of business school, where our story begins. A few of us decided to start a 'study group.' We met in the library and sat in the group study area, casually glancing at our case studies whilst we got to know one another better. An hour into our 'studying', the boy walked in, coffee in one hand, notes in the other, and sat down in front of me. I remember realizing that he was hot, but not intimidating, a rare combination (not that I was complaining.)

As the conversation progressed, music came up. Music for me was something I enjoyed, but not something that I invested proper time towards. As an old soul (a.k.a. a weird child), I spent many an hour listening to show tunes with my grandmother or blasting old rock songs on drives with my grandpa. Songs like "Moon River" moved me, because they were my lullabies growing up, but once my grandpa passed away when I was eleven, playing his records wasn't something I felt like I should or could do without him.

The boy in our story started talking about his favorite music and as he did so, his eyes lit up. It was magical to see someone so impassioned as they spoke of the impact songs had on them. He spoke of his family's background in music and how he played instruments and it was clear that this was someone that truly cared about music. He expressed how his taste changed with the weather. I was mesmerized by his love for music and it made me all the more attracted to him.

As the weeks passed, the boy and I became genuinely good friends. We continue to get along like a house on fire and whilst I have never properly explored the potential of romance with him, I consider him to be one of my best friends (although I think to him, I was more of an 'in the moment' sort of friend.) Whilst my romantic feelings were steadily increasing, I saw different sides to him. I sensed a slight arrogance which I've never liked in people and also recognized a selfishness, which was equally unattractive. I figured these newfound revelations were ideal, they would keep my feelings at bay and help me maintain a friendship that I truly cared about.

When I was asked about my taste in music on that fine afternoon in the library, I told the stories of my grandfather and grandmother and how their songs had become my songs. What I didn't reveal was how and why I had stopped listening to this music (mainly because I did not feel like it was necessary to clarify my grandfather had passed to what was essentially a group of strangers). Now whilst this was not an intentional lie, the result was the boy in our story thinking that music was something we totally had in common. I went back to my room that day and listened to a Spotify playlist of classic rock thinking that it would merely be a way to talk to my 'friend crush' but what ended up happening was memories rushing back. Memories of car rides and laughter, of sitting in my grandpa's chair which I was far too tiny for. I remembered the day he died, the sense of distance I felt to music I enjoyed and seeing the wall of vinyl that would never be loved quite the same way.

My passion and love for music were not as evident or as intense as his, but my appreciation for classic rock skyrocketed. Realising the impact of Led Zeppelin, Queen, Janis Joplin and Patti Smith on music, lyrics, and everything in between is enough to blow anyone's mind and that is exactly what these new realisations did to mine. I fell from one artist into another and had slowly immersed myself into all kinds of music, from Buddy Holly and Johnny Cash to Jimi Hendrix and Simon & Garfunkel. The music, the people, and their stories fascinated me. They also made me feel like I rekindled a point of connection I shared with my grandpa, which felt great.

The problem I face, however, is the fact that so many of the amazing songs I was introduced to and love, were shown to me by a boy who I am trying to get over. A boy who will never love me, but who I just can't seem to get over. I will warn anyone reading this not to let someone you have feelings for introduce you to music because it is weirdly torturous. It's heartbreaking when someone you feel you would be so right for, introduces you to a song that you love (which reiterates your inklings that you are perfect for each other) especially when you can not even listen to that song without recalling the fact that they showed it to you. It really sucks.

I value people that have come into my life because they all shape me; but with this particular boy, it is a bittersweet situation, because on the one hand, I know for a fact that my feelings aren't in a rush to go anywhere. What I also know is that for him I was merely a stop along the way, just a buddy he will soon forget to touch base with because he no longer needs my company, advice, or (most importantly) my proofreading skills. For me, though, he was genuinely in the running for my final destination (kindly note the Gossip Girl reference) and someone I will always care about.

I think that whilst there is a sadness when I listen to a song he showed me, though, there's also a realisation that sometimes life doesn't go the way you want it to. You can feel so passionate about someone and conjure up a future together, but that may simply not be on their radar. I think it is important to acknowledge when people in our lives are what spark a passion or rekindle a love for something and to always value and remember that persons importance in getting you and your passion together as it were. I also think it is equally important to know that whilst a boy you think is amazing may introduce you to rock music, playing the guitar, reading Proust, or whatever it may be, the spark and relationship you may develop with that book, instrument or genre of music is yours. It is yours and no one else's.

Our hobbies, likes, and dislikes may be in part a result of the people we come across, but equally, our influences affect them. It is important to not feel like your love for something is less meaningful because it was not your own discovery, because it rarely is. So, hot boy who I have hardly spoken to since graduation, thank you for the memories and thank you for reigniting my love for rock 'n' roll, which is slowly but surely helping me get over you.

humanity
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About the Creator

Marla Felipe

An optimistic pessimist trying to navigate through this thing we call life.

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