Saturday, October 10, 2009

Oh, The Water

Have you ever noticed the way a person in your life can become intimately associated with a particular musician, style of music, album, song, etc? For me, I've always associated certain musicians with certain significant others. The boy I lost my hetero virginity to was a huge Dead Kennedys fan. To this day, elevens years later, when I hear Night Of The Living Rednecks, I fondly remember him.  My first lover I associate with Ani DiFranco.  My first long-term boyfriend I associate with Talking Heads.  And so on.

Today, I can not listen to Van Morrison at all because it so painfully reminds me of the good times with Kenny.  The first time that we made love (which is different from simply fucking, if you ask me), he played Van.  A couple of minutes ago It Stoned Me began softly playing on the radio.  Prior to the break-up, I would have turned up the music and contentedly hummed along.  As it stands, I had to tune it out.  Listening to the lyrics would have been vexatious.  Even the faint lines of the melody were almost too much to endure.

Another musician that I find agonizing at the moment is Bob Dylan.  Kenny taught me so much about him; I don't think I really understood the depth of this music prior to our relationship.  I've rarely seen Kenny as emotional as he was while listening to certain Dylan songs.  I remember coming home to him sitting in the living room, all of the lights off and candles flickering on the coffee table.  He was a dark figure, but fully present with himself and his thoughts.  I dropped my keys on the table while wordlessly sitting down on the couch next to him, he put an arm around me, and I laid my head on his shoulder.  We sat like that through most of a double-album.

I have to say, the absolute worst is Lay Lady Lay--   
Stay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile
Why wait any longer for the world to begin
You can have your cake and eat it too
Why wait any longer for the one you love
When he's standing in front of you

The song isn't even playing (except in my head) and I am teary-eyed.  Ken was such a lonely person.  Such a lost soul.  I still feel like I failed him.  Like I was supposed to save him.  What a trite farce.

But, I think what I really need to be doing right now is NOT avoiding this music.  I should probably have a nice long sit down with these albums and feel what I feel.  Hypocrite that I am, I've said to at least four people in the last week, "Your feelings are your feelings.  Stop trying to dismiss them or change them.  Just let them be.  Your only job is to feel them."  It's about time I took my own advice.

Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Let it run all over me