Dear Music,
We both knew a long-distance relationship would be hard. But not being able to see you for a year has been harder than I ever imagined.
So many songs remind me of you. These days, it seems like all of them.
I find myself alone on this proverbial deserted island with little more than recordings of your voice and memories of the times we’ve shared together.
It’s funny; I never pictured myself becoming a cliche. I also never pictured a life without you. You are every one of my Top 5, 10, 40, 100. My all-time favorite. The one I love.
My Immortal Beloved, your love makes me the happiest and unhappiest at the same time.
I don’t know what I would’ve done if I didn’t have virtually infinite ways to see you whenever I felt that I needed you. Day or night. In the car. In tears. In the bathroom… With technology, you have availed yourself to me at all hours, 24–7. Frankly, you may never know what that has meant to me.
But baby, I’m getting headaches from staring at my screens. I need your touch more today than ever before. The way that only you can touch me.
You’ve told me, “I love you,” a million times, a million different ways, but not one of them has resonated like the love we’ve shared in person.
I miss how you make me feel. Even when you’re up on the stage, 6’ away, I can feel the vibration of your voice through my body and over my skin like jacuzzi-warm waves in an ocean of ecstasy, existentialism, and independent spirits.
I get chills thinking about it.
The closest I can get to that feeling lately is wrapping myself in one of your raggedy old t-shirts. It’s just not the same. And this one has so many holes in it, as many holes as my heart without you around to fill the voids.
I miss how I can make you feel, too; my adoration and obsession and loyalty and respect for you. It sometimes feels like everything I own has your name on it. I miss supporting your career. I miss showering you with gifts as well as my complete, unadulterated, often transfixed attention. And you always seem to enjoy the sounds I make when you bring me to a sonically-induced orgasm.
Baby, it goes without saying, but I need to say: you bring me bliss. You make me happier than happy. Even when you make me cry. You make me who I am. You’re as much me as me, and anyone and everyone who knows anything about me knows everything I know about you.
You make me want to sing. You make me want to dance. You make me want to SCREAM!!! You make me want to laugh. You make me forget about the voices in my head and help me fall asleep, quickly and wake me up slowly. You make me… hell, name something.
You… make… me.
You are with me, around me, inside me. Consume me. Inspire me. Heal me. Connect me. You are omnipresent in my life. But life feels empty without you, here, in person.
Like a silent film on mute.
This year has been the most painful experience of my life. My heart, the spot beneath the tattoo of your name, aches for you every day. And every night.
Nevertheless, I need to thank you for helping me get through these times.
I don’t know where I’d be without you, even just the memories of you. But your messages of love, hope, and unity have helped push me through the volume of silence.
I could write a million love notes to you, Music, my one and only everlasting love. And I will, as always. I promise.
But I can’t wait to see you again.
With All My Love,
Your Biggest Fan
Music Notes is now in private beta. To learn more about Music Notes, my music background, and why I was once known as “Mayor Rock,” click here.
