Examining My Aversion Toward Moving On Through Mediocre Pop Songs
Why Can’t Love and Loss Be As Simple As These Lyrics?
There is something deeply poetic to me about the fact that Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking Out Loud” won song of the year at the 2016 Grammys; and at the same show James Bay performed “Let it Go.”
“Thinking Out Loud” was our song. [I know this is beyond cheesy, but so was he, and so was I, when I was in love with him.] When I heard that it won — while we watched the broadcast with our dogs, on our couch — I jumped up and down.
“It won! We won! Our song!” I was giddy with excitement. Somehow, while our relationship was dissolving, it felt like this was some sort of sign. Maybe we could make it. Maybe we would find our way again, if we could ever get off this couch.
I bent down to kiss my boyfriend, who looked less than enthused about the win [about me?]. He obviously didn’t see the same symbolism here. Looking back, by then he had probably already given up. He was just doing his thinking very quietly, rather than out loud.
However, my boyfriend did perk up when James Bay came out with Tori Kelly to perform “Let it Go”. He was really into the song, although I doubt he caught the lyrics. Neither of us did, then.
Fast forward to about six weeks later, and my world had been completely turned upside down. No longer was that man, on the couch, watching the Grammys, my boyfriend. No longer was that couch even my couch. After a month’s separation (he’d asked me to move out one day a few weeks after the Grammys— out of the blue, and also not.) I was driving to his house (once mine, not so long ago) and hoping for a reconciliation.
If Ed Sheeran comes on the radio, it’s a sign. I told myself. If “Thinking Out Loud” comes on during this drive, I’ll know we’re getting back together.
As I scanned the radio waves, desparately, I heard a familiar tune. The cords struck me and I knew. My heart dropped. It wasn’t Ed Sheeran. It was James Bay. “Let it Go.”
“Why don’t you be you // And I’ll be me”
We never got back together. It’s been a year. I’ve been clinging to this relationship since the day he left me. First wanting it back,then realizing I really didn’t want it back at all, but still using the wounds as a suit of armor to avoid having to move on or to be vulnerable again.
That’s me thinking out loud. Admitting that I haven’t wanted to move on. It’s too scary. But it’s also scary to not move on, especially when you know where you were, where you are, isn’t working anymore.
Trying to fit your hand in mine when we know it just don’t belong
And there’s definitely no moving forward when you’re listening to the same song on repeat, seeking meaning in lyrics that weren’t written for you. So. I guess it’s time to figure out how to really just let it go, let it be. ❤
