I don’t know if this is something everyone goes through, but it’s quite a routine for me.
Let me explain it to you. Imagine you’re sitting quietly at your favourite pub (the one where the waiters know you by your first name and you have your table even if you choose to walk in on a Friday night at 8pm), in your own favourite corner by the large French window, sipping on a cold mug of fine wheat beer, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, away from the crowd, the noise and the dust the city has to offer. You are alone. Not sad, worried or anxious. Not a thought as to whether that young woman in red sitting at the table to your left is wondering if you’re a loner or friendless. You are completely at peace with your own being; you are happy and alone.
Just as you take your first sip from that familiar mug and you wipe that froth off your lip with your sleeve, that acoustic riff starts playing. Of a song you haven’t heard before but you immediately know in the inner depths of your soul that you’ll love, no matter what the song may progress into. As indecisive as you may be with every other aspect of your life, this is one of those rare occasions when you just know..” Yes this is me. This song just knows me.”
You were one of those songs. I was happy in my corner in life when you just walked in. But that moment you walked in, I knew you were that song. That song I’d listen to every single day, till the day I die, maybe after. That song that can pick me up even when I’ve hit rock bottom. That song I’d want everyone I love to listen to; but the song I’d treasure forever. That song which brought a flood of emotion I couldn’t describe. My song.