The foundation of our
unstable relationship was built upon songs. In the beginning,
before the feelings developed, we would send each other cutesy
cheesy songs about friendship and ‘other halves’,
best friends. When the romantic feelings became known on both
sides, deeper love songs were often shared to convey our
promises and hopes to one another. I distinctly remember
certain ones, ones that I now can't listen to without
feeling unwelcome nostalgia or chagrin at all the bittersweet
memories. When things started going south, our fights getting
uglier and more frequent, your manipulation and lies becoming
less subtle, you sometimes recommended songs with sad,
pain-filled lyrics under the nonchalant guise of enjoying them
and thinking I would too. In hearing them, I heard everything
you were either too afraid or too passive aggressive to say
yourself. Perhaps after knowing me for two years you'd
deducted I was intuitive enough to grasp your unspoken
intentions myself, perhaps you really did think I was gullible
enough to accept your casual, tired-out explanation that
‘it's a good song’. Regardless, you always had
a purpose and an outcome in mind. Everything you ever did was
calculated and strategic; everything you ever gave me or told
me contained an underlying message. You weren't one to do
things just because, but because–. Every conversation,
look, touch, moment was a riddle, and this time the answer was
agonizingly clear-cut.
But you weren't the only one with cruel tricks and
concealed agendas up your sleeve. Our relationship even
closed with a song, played by chance on the radio when I
was on the way to school that morning you decided to walk away
from me and out of my life. Its words were hauntingly allusive,
and now I see that they foreshadowed what was to come minutes
later... only this time it wasn't delivered through you.
You see, The universe was mocking us from start to end,
reminding us that our love would never be as harmonious and
poetic as the songs we based it on.