just shuffled into play on my iPod, and the whole reason for it being there came flooding back to me.
Some time last year, before we were together properly – sometime during that period of us each telling each other our secrets and our dreams but being too scared to tell each other that the only person who could make those dreams come true was the person we were gushing them all out to… – sometime then, late at night during one of our usual nocturnal internet conversations, I was sad and down. I didn’t tell you, but you could sense it (yes, even through the complex maze of cyberspace). But instead of interrupting my silence, or pestering me, you sent me a link to this song. This exact link in fact. I opened the link and sat here on my bed listening to the song, but more importantly the words that were being said. It made me cry even more, but for quite the opposite reason. It made me cry tears of complete happiness and relief, but more than anything, tears of complete, over-whelming love, because I suddenly felt like it had all clicked into place. You understood me more than anyone had ever bothered to before, and it all felt so perfect – we felt perfect. I told you this that night and well, everyone knows where it goes from there 🙂
So there you go. Despite the fact that I used to despise this song (for the pure reason that Radio 2 used to play about 17 times a day), at that particular moment in time, it meant the world to me. It not only made me put life and my little worries into perspective, but it made me realise you, and that we weren’t a one-sided love affair – we both needed each other. And also, while we’re at it, I do acknowledge that I actually omitted this song from the mix-tape I made you. To be honest, I completely forgot about it. But that is why (here comes the moral of the story…), you have to have an iTunes playlist where you keep songs from occasions like this, and you don’t delete them. Ever. Music is the best way to rekindle memories.