It All Started With a Playlist

Music is a way for me to connect with the world around me. Music allows me to share my feelings without having to actually say them out loud until I am ready.

Music moves me, changes me, helps me grow. Music is everything I have ever wanted or needed. Music makes me feel whole.

When I send someone a song, or a playlist, it tells a story – in one way or another.

With you, it was different. I didn’t even know if you would like what I inserted into this little playlist that was only for you. I was a little bit scared that I would throw out these songs, let you hear them, feel them (maybe?), and let you in a little bit closer than you were before.

I added some, removed some.

I found you in each and every one.

So, I said: “Screw it,” and sent it anyways.

From the very first song through to the last, lengthy letters in the form of artists.

In the essence of being completely honest, because that’s what I do with my writing, it might be a little bit presumptuous to state that all because of this one playlist someone fell in love with me. All I’m trying to say is that the way a person can exchange songs with another can provide more connection than a Summer romance that is over too quickly. Sending songs underscores your entire life.

And you can fucking feel it.

For example, a seven minute orchestral version of EDM song can not only send shivers down your spine but you can imagine how the person who wrote the song felt with every beat of the bass drum to the way the bow slides up and down the strings of the violin. You can imagine how the person you sent it to or received it from would move as they listened.

We fell into the rhythm of one another.

The music imitated life.

There was a simple beauty to it.

Baby, you saw glimpses into my life.

Baby, you heard the words before I even said them out loud.

Songs stand the test of time. Songs are nostalgic.

Songs make you dance. Songs make you smile. Songs make you cry.

There are songs for honesty, for hard truths.

Songs for understanding.

Songs that are now only about you and I.

You see, the songs that are now only ours, are a conversation within a melody. No explanation needed. No words were ever needed except for those within the songs.

It was the silent: “I love you’s,” with just one smile.

Baby, all the songs are about you.

Baby, all the songs tell a story about you and I.

Like the ink from your pen onto paper, the melody surrounds us.

I think it always did.

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