You know how I’ve always loved music, don’t you?
It was the one thing in the world that could make me feel alright. I loved how easy it was for me to get you to love music, too. And boy, did you love music with all your might.
You played my favorite jams on the radio
when we did our road trips. On sleepless nights, you’d recite the most beautiful assonances from songs while we lay in each other's arms.
How you’d burn me a CD of cute, make-up songs
after we got into a big argument, begging me to listen to it; and in the end, I always came back to you because I really did love you.
At this point, most of my songs were a soundtrack for every little things that you do.
Then you became distant.
I tried to find my way back to music, but everything that I listen to would always remind me of you.
Because in the end, you told me that I wasn’t good enough, and about how you lost all your feelings for me.
I can never stand music because it is just a reminder of you and of how I miss you so dearly.
Then I remember the pain you caused me,
the gnawing self-hatred you gave me after you broke us off.
I just wanted to stop hurting,
so I disconnected myself from everything that reminds me of you.
I hate music now, thanks to you.
Funny how I made you love the one thing I love, then you totally ruined it for me.