Just An Old-Fashioned Love Song

I am getting good at forgetting you. I have learned to collect all of the scrambling memories I have of you, running around like fluffy little chicks. I scoop them up quickly, stick them in a box and close the lid that throbs like a new bruise.

But every once in a while, a little yellow memory escapes and sneaks its oily way into my conscience, interrupting a once placid moment.

Once, I was in the grocery store — way in the grocery store — far from any exit and easy escape, when I heard the old familiar notes of our song beginning to play on my rustiest heartstring.

As I stood in the cereal aisle with Chex in one hand, Cheerios in the other, I flooded with poultry of what these words once were to me, to us. I recalled the time shopping for towels that our tune played and you wordlessly pulled me in to sway right there among the Egyptian cotton and terrycloth.

How I cherished that moment then. How I am haunted by it now. The lyrics, now so laden with meaning, laughing in my face with irony, make me want to tear open the boxes in my hands and watch the breakfast roll down the manilla tiles of aisle seven.

A life that we once swore was better together is distant. Foreign. Foggy.

I soon realize that I have been deciding for five minutes. I scoop up the chick, tuck it back inside its box and put the cereal back on the shelf. I exit the store leaving my appetite and the memory on the shelf. -Susan

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

I can so relate to what the author is saying. I can never listen to Sheriff’s When I’m With You without thinking of my first love. It’s an old song he found somewhere and he called it our song. I hear it every now and then on my car radio and it instantly transports me back in time, triggering memories of a past love.


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