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We haven’t spoken since that last time, which is honestly impressive considering how committed the universe has been to arranging near-misses.
We grew up together, knew the same people, lived in the same circles, and even after ending up hundreds of miles apart, there’s always someone who knows you, knows me, or knows someone who knows both of us. At this point, I’m starting to suspect we’re just poorly written recurring characters.
I have my own life now and so do you. There are new people, new routines, new problems, and presumably better things to think about. There is absolutely no practical reason for either of us to be thinking about the other.
Which is why, every once in a while, I consider deleting that playlist. You know the one. The playlist I made entirely of songs you introduced me to.
Deleting it feels like the mature thing to do. A symbolic little spring cleaning of the heart. Very healthy. Very emotionally evolved. Look at me, I have boundaries now.
And then I don’t delete it. Instead, I listen to it. Which is not, objectively, a very strong argument for having moved on.
The songs come on one by one, and suddenly I’m remembering things I haven’t thought about in a while. Not even the important things. Just stupid little details. The kind of memories your brain stores in perfect resolution while forgetting where you put your keys five minutes ago.
I cry a little sometimes. Which is frankly inconvenient. Mostly because I don’t even know what I’m crying for. I don’t necessarily want you back. I don’t think I’m waiting for you. I certainly don’t expect some grand cinematic reunion. God, that would be deeply embarrassing for everyone involved.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m only holding on because the songs are genuinely that good. It would be nice to blame my feelings on your excellent taste.
Maybe I just miss the person I was when I knew you. Or maybe I miss the version of my life that existed when those songs belonged to both of us, before they became just songs again.
Because that’s the annoying thing about people. Sometimes they leave your life and forget to take everything with them. They leave behind places. Phrases. Habits. A few songs and apparently, in my case, a whole damn playlist.
So no, I still haven’t deleted it.
After all these years, it remains the longest-running relationship in my life, which is a little embarrassing for me.
I would delete it. I really would.
I just haven’t found the delete button yet.
Note from H. Tayrone:
I certainly know the feeling. It just makes things harder to leave behind when there are still pieces living in the present. I'm not sure what the best approach is because moving on feels like the right thing to do, you don't even know if you'll see the person again, but sometimes you just can't get some things out of your life. I just wish you good luck there.
See you tomorrow with something new!
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