“The song ends, but the melody remains.”

a woman with sad face
Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

We all want to slam the door occasionally, shout, “This is it!” and tell someone to go fuck themselves, right?

The problem is, as Nora Ephron used to say, “When the song ends, the melody remains.”

In other words, the relationship is over, but the story continues; it stays inside, spinning like laundry in a centrifuge.

And no matter how often we spin what happened, our mental washing machine doesn’t entirely clean the stain.

And after it goes through the dryer, we keep that story labeled “Painful Past.”

But we do that to others, too – we’re not Saints, Baby 🙂

We leave their lives, but we still sound in their minds, as Laura Pausini refrains:

“He’s gone; I’m left with only his poison.
He’s gone, and my love is covered in ice.
He’s gone, and my life with him is gone.
He’s gone, and I don’t know why”.

Laura Pausini (song; Se fué.)

And it hurts. It hurts. Because fallen angels don’t just bruise their knees when they touch the ground with them, they also claw when they grab onto someone to pull themselves up. And then they go with their music elsewhere.

Living without hurting is like walking on a wet beach without leaving a trace; you can’t.

Fortunately, the damage heals.

Unfortunately, the wound reopens when we run into that person.

And you don’t want (when that happens) to hurt more than necessary.

You don’t want to be remembered with angst.

You don’t want to show up on their mental Spotify and be part of their “Recurring Memories To Cry On A Rainy Winter Afternoon” playlist.

You want them to look at you and have their chest heave a little.

You want a faint smile to creep across their face.

You want an ancient glow to bubble up from their insides, escaping through their pupils like a newly discovered oil well.

You want it to ache beautifully, wistfully.

To communicate, as you watch that person pass by, with a silence that says, “We were so young” or “I hope that one walking next to you can laugh at your bad jokes.”

You want to remain in the minds of those who pass through your life as part of their soundtrack.

You want to aspire at least to be the Nuvole Bianche of the great Ludovico Einaudi.

So try not to slam the door in the nose of that person who drives you out of your mind but who was once someone you appreciated.

A virtual hug


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