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I’m trying to put you in the backseat,  but your handsome face is clouding my rearview mirror.

I know you saw me crying to practically every love song that the airwaves are playing, even though I hid my tears from the other passengers.

I looked directly at myself in the rearview mirror while contemplating the archetypal, universal themes in the songs, not wanting to admit that i am just like everyone else.

I wanted to see if I looked different now that I am on this magical stage of unity with all the other heartsick persons.  I always took pride in being above my emotions, in having control over them. I’d really learned to steer my ship through the storms and organized my world so that I didn’t have to oar through so much just to get through a day.

thanks for…..making me feel… just like everybody else?  it’s been humbling and possibly…humiliating.

I saw you watching in my mirror when I was screaming WHY at Avril Lavigne after listening to “Hush, Hush,” because, unlike her apparently pacifiable heart, I can’t just not ask why. I made amends with her when I heard “I Wish you were here” and screamed the “DAMN, DAMN, DAMN” chorus over and over again.  I guess she gets it.

And all the other ladies, too, whose music I’ve avoided for years: Taylor Swift, Adele, Miley, Katy Perry, Halsey, Madonna….they all must’ve met you, too, because I keep hearing songs with you in them. there’s more, too.  i just dont even know all of their names yet.

eh.  the universal lover.

You don’t look as good in my rearview mirror as you did beside me, but  I’m not sure if that’s a universal thing.  I’ll have to keep listening.

(side note….thought for the day:  are you universal or is the rearview mirror?)