Wednesday, February 27, 2013
More Than a Woman: Musical Exorcism
I am little without love.
While this sentence isn't substantial for the totality of the sentiment, I feel its truth.
I don't miss being single. I miss the unforgiving nights alone with my thoughts and my cigarettes. I miss the hair on my legs that once grew into tufts, wheat fields without anyone to pay attention to the muscle and skin underneath them. I miss the perpetual forgiveness I gave myself with mistakes in love: not calling someone back, leaving lovers by the side of the road like hitchhikers I'm not equipped to pick up and take along for the drive.
I miss listening to songs and finding someone to hide in their meanings. I miss finding anew.
I miss the cold-blooded freedom of the serpent, unwavering at the sight of others' human emotion.
These things I miss because sometimes I am a misguided person.
More than anyone or any situation from the past, I miss the music I listened to as a single person. More than that, I miss the songs I listened to as a heartbroken woman.
The songs I gathered in my times of devastation filled a void no rebound could have. I wept, wrestled into sleep, laughed and felt better about myself listening to the music. It was what kept me sane, what made sure I got the insanity out of me.
Listening to it all now, I'm overwhelmed, not with nostalgia for the boys I cared for, but by the separation I've created between the songs, those boys and the times I associate with both.
As Mick Jagger sings, "I can still look for someone else." When thinking of past relationships, that is the attitude I carry.
While there may have been a time when I thought of a certain boy listening to "Under My Thumb," that time is now gone. With all of these songs, I've performed a musical exorcism.
Much like a religious exorcism rids a person of demonic influence, a musical exorcism rids songs of particular connotations. In my case, those connotations are romantic.
There's no sure-fire method to removing memory from song, but if the song's important to you, you'll find a way.
Sometimes you need a fresh start.
More than a woman, I'm a human being that needs love, and loves love. Romantic at heart, Mick Jagger in mind, I'm hopelessly Prince in spirit: attracted to the draw of another's unfamiliar essence --their sexual energy. The unknown may be sweet, only because we've imagined it so.
Biologically we're not meant to be monogamous. I hope my evolutionary intelligence guides me.
I hope every time I hear Bonnie Raitt sing "I Can't Make You Love Me," I'm reminded of how good I have it. I hope I'm always grateful for love and beautiful music.