March 13th, 2020
Sometimes I listen to songs that remind me of the people I have loved before, but it feels like every time I do, the reasons for listening are never the same. My visceral response to hearing them is also almost always different. And rarely is it the reaction I was expecting to have. The one thing that nearly remains consistent, however, is my need to listen to them at a high volume.
Although it sucks to hurt, what an amazing privilege it is to have experienced being in love.
All I can possibly know about my memories of these people, the causes of various degrees of heartbreak, no matter how difficult it is to face, remember, admit, or deal with, is that I did love them. Truly, deeply, and uniquely.
And so the story goes.
I am healing, or maybe I am healed, but sometimes the songs still make me sad.
Sunflower almost always makes me sad.
Am I sad for what has been, or what could have been? Sometimes it is only one, sometimes it is both. Sometimes it is neither, and I am just sad that this is the nature of life as a feeling being.
I have been in love.
What an interesting thing to know about oneself in the present perfect tense.