my person is a romantic soul-- trapped in a cynical, lusty body. she does, however, have some sweetness that she shares when she's in serious like. the first stage comes in the form of the newly-burned cd. sure, it's just the modern mixed tape, but who doesn't love to get in their car the morning after a late date and hear songs that someone chose especially for them. someone just got the first cd mp has made in a long time, and (in a surreal moment) the cd played while they cuddled (or whatever the euphemism of the day is). in that moment, mp realized how intimate a cd from her is.
life has a soundtrack. my person has always been big on music; every major moment, every relationship, every memory has a song attached in some way. when she shares the songs, she doesn't usually share the story, but she always shares a part of herself. music-- the favorites, the ones that hurt to much to hear, the ones that bring smiles, the ones that cause the peddle to slip towards the floor on the freeway, the ones that silence-- is very exposing. the mixed cd says, "this is what i like; this is what matters to me. this is my taste; this is what i feel. do you like it, too?" it's holding a hand out into space, waiting to see if someone reaches out across the crackling air.
mp is passionate about music in the way that some people are passionate about family, sex, money, drugs... and, as she held the girl, letting the aural and physical blend, she realized that she will never again be satisfied with compartmentalizing the things she loves. those days are gone. everything that is needed to be happy surrounds her, and she understands that only an idiot lives to please others when happiness is at the door. there might come a time when another song gets added to the "wow-that-song-gives-my-feelers-a-tweak" list, but there will be a hundred others that get added to the goofy-grin pile.
