The question of division of assets comes-up every time a relationship ends. What people often forget about are the shared experiences and memories, who get’s those? I like to claim ownership of all my memories, but today I was reminded of one of the casualties of separation: Music.
I was sitting in the Travel Office with the clerks (tweedle dee and tweedle dumber) and there was old school hip-hop and R&B blaring. While I like this music, I don’t like having anything Blaring while I work. This was more than annoying though, it became emotional torture. Each song made me miss D like crazy, the memories flooding in.
Now, I am very blessed that D is still part of my life, but listening to “his music” or “our songs” felt like having a serrated knife nonchalantly pulled through my chest. This shock of sentiment made me realize that this is something I have been unconsciously avoiding. There will come a time when I can listen to these songs without them breaking my heart, but for now, Hip Hop is dead to me. I wonder if he has had to give-up any of his songs. I somehow doubt it, music is in his soul. I think to him the ownership goes without question, they are all his.
Funny how something so seemingly innocuous can sneak-up and punch you in the gut. I have made a great effort to keep certain things, certain city blocks and restaurants, but this I cannot fight, this will be his until the wound heals. I look forward to the day when those songs can make me smile, fondly remembering. D is a good man and I will always love him, but someday it won’t hurt to do so.
I was sitting in the Travel Office with the clerks (tweedle dee and tweedle dumber) and there was old school hip-hop and R&B blaring. While I like this music, I don’t like having anything Blaring while I work. This was more than annoying though, it became emotional torture. Each song made me miss D like crazy, the memories flooding in.
Now, I am very blessed that D is still part of my life, but listening to “his music” or “our songs” felt like having a serrated knife nonchalantly pulled through my chest. This shock of sentiment made me realize that this is something I have been unconsciously avoiding. There will come a time when I can listen to these songs without them breaking my heart, but for now, Hip Hop is dead to me. I wonder if he has had to give-up any of his songs. I somehow doubt it, music is in his soul. I think to him the ownership goes without question, they are all his.
Funny how something so seemingly innocuous can sneak-up and punch you in the gut. I have made a great effort to keep certain things, certain city blocks and restaurants, but this I cannot fight, this will be his until the wound heals. I look forward to the day when those songs can make me smile, fondly remembering. D is a good man and I will always love him, but someday it won’t hurt to do so.
