I’m going to walk run the Chicago Marathon in October. I’m planning on explaining that decision in another blog post, because obviously that statement needs an explanation – given that I hate running. But I don’t really feel like it right now, so instead I’m going to write a little about my running playlist. Stick with me.

I love good songs, which I understand is a relative statement. I’ve been told I have horrible taste in music (thank you, Eric) so take “good” with a grain of salt, but whatever. The songs I like generally are ones that have lyrics that hook me…not the three part harmonies, and the stellar instrumentals…blah blah blah. It doesn’t have to be a whole song that gets me either – it can just be the chorus, or a single line in a verse. And sometimes I change words here or there in a song to make it more applicable to my life. I can’t be the only one that does that, right? So, anyways, my playlist is a bit of a mixed bag of songs that speak to me, but I’m learning that can be dangerous. Let me give you an example.

Amnesia is a song that I thought was written by One Direction, but I just googled the lyrics and apparently it’s by a band called Five Seconds of Summer…(I should mention, I rarely know who sings the songs I like). I recently tried listening to that song while running and my eyes started watering and my throat closed. Not the response one should aim for when attempting long distance running.

“I remember the day you told me you were leaving
I remember the make-up running down [my] face
And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them
Like every single wish we ever made
I wish that I could wake up with amnesia
And forget about the stupid little things
Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you
And the memories I never can escape”

Can you see why I love it? I mean I should probably hate it, because it’s so sad when I think about it through my context, but it’s just so perfectly written and sums up what I feel in such a catchy little diddy.

“I remember the day you told me you were leaving”. I do remember that day. Eric was in bed, I think I’d been administering his TPN (IV nutrition) at home for a while. He was so uncomfortable and was merely surviving – not living. And those are the words he used when he said he was ready to be done. Surviving, not living. “I remember the make up running down my face”. Check – both then and now. I didn’t use anxiety meds very often when he was sick – I suppose in a sense, I was in survival mode too. So I told him I understood, and agreed with his decision, crawled into bed and told him I’d be taking an Ativan to help me sleep. He told me that he understood, and that it was a very reasonable choice. We were nothing, if not logical and practical. “And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them. Like every single wish we ever made.” We didn’t really talk much about how Eric felt about dying. It was too depressing in an already pretty depressing situation. We especially didn’t talk much about Arie, because that would just break us to a whole other level. Shattering. But those were the dreams and wishes he was leaving behind. Dreams of seeing Arie grow up. “I wish that I could wake up with amnesia, and forget about the stupid little things. Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you, and the memories I never can escape.” Yup. Sometimes I think amnesia would be a welcome relief. So many stupid little things remind me of him everyday. And my bed feels too big now. When he was sick and I was sad, I used to move my foot so that I was touching his leg as I fell asleep. It was a small thing that was comforting to me for some reason. And sometimes we woke up holding hands, which is kind of beautiful. Now I have a wall of pillows surrounding me so that I don’t reach for him in the middle of the night only to find no one is there. Because let me tell you what – there’s not much worse than dreaming about being with someone only to wake up and find real life is the bad dream. That’s a day-ruiner right there.

And that’s how I made a song about a break-up even more depressing! Now I’m off to go for a run. Nope, that’s a lie…I’m going to watch a movie.