In an attempt to mask the shitty day at work, you browse the candle aisle at Ross, with your heart set on a lemongrass scent, when a song comes over the speaker — a spunky pop song that sounds as if its track number 18 on “Now Volume 4.” You can’t escape the young crooning voice. The track sounds like a flat soda spilled on a Lisa Frank folder. You run to the towel aisle, hoping the thick woven cotton will muffle the sound. It doesn’t.
Don’t date a music producer. It will haunt you and follow you in your every day life, whether it is at a nearby Ross or in a crumb speckled booth at a dead Chili’s.
He will write a song based off of your failed relationship and then let you know that it is possibly being picked up by Justin Bieber. Oh, how sweet of him to share.
So what do you do? You listen to the words your ex wrote and wish you too could play the victim and project it to all the rolling individuals at this year’s anticipated Coachella. The bouncing flash tattoos will sparkle in the moonlight during this depressing DJ set. (I take it back. I really hope flash tattoos had their moment and are done forever.) The song, unfortunately, is so upbeat that you can’t tell that you’re moshing to a wasted year of fraudulent love. Poor deceived millennials.
There’s good news in this. It wasn’t Bieber who picked up these three minutes of EDM heart ache. (Thank God, because I love the Biebs.) So in anticipation of this new song’s release, with words that sting a dedicated female’s heart… what do you do leading up to this week’s “New Music Friday?” Do you run to the nearest Vons and grab the new Ben and Jerry’s flavor called “It’s Mint to Be” and finish the pint in ten minutes? Do you do something drastic and get your nipples pierced to feel even more pain than you already feel? Do you graffiti a billboard of La La Land because you too are an aspiring actor who had a failed relationship with a musician, except you’re not famous yet nor are you perfect Emma Stone?
There is obvious healing to be had, with little escape at any discount retail store or restaurant chain happy hour.
You don’t do any of the above. Instead, you write this love letter to all who have experienced heart break in their twenties, and let them know that these chapters pass.
Time heals like it does a sunburn. You just remember to apply more sunblock next time.
You accept what a strong person you are and that everything happens for a reason. You move on with your life and your aspiring dreams, with your head held high. You continue to love as hard as you have loved, because that is the greatest gift we have to offer, especially during this period of time in political history. You shine even brighter with your funny, positive spirit, and intoxicate any one who crosses your path.
You buy that lemongrass candle from Ross and maybe even some flash tattoos in the sale section. Purchase the song that you inspired as a token of your hurt and to remember that you moved someone so much to write a melodic duet memoir, whether it be true or not. You light that candle, transfer those flash tattoos on to your now sun blocked skin, and mosh with the rest of the world to that beautiful song because life goes on. We have one chance to live it to the fullest. Why let anyone take that away?