Whenever Trolley and I hang out together, whether it’s a car ride or a session of tower defense, we queue up albums that we both enjoy. Billy Talent, The Artist in the Ambulance, Sing the Sorrow, Give Up. However, there’s one song that he never queues up, that he always skips without anyone else knowing.
He knows that I can’t listen to that one song off guard. As much as I want that song for myself, to mean nothing more than a frail voice and bouncing beats, I can’t give up the memories that I associate with it, I can’t let go of what the song has come to mean.
And it’s only now that I realize that it’s better this way.