I heard a song a couple of days ago that really cracked me up, if only because I could see myself in its words. That happens a lot to me. I guess it does to nearly everyone. But for me, the songs about the end of a relationship are particularly dear to me, largely because each one has a grain of truth to it.
And truth be known, I have a song for each of my exes, be they a spouse or an extended dating scenario, especially those that drifted into cohabitation. Yes, to any of you exes out there, you have your own song.
One was written by me, the others were written and recorded by others. I have always thought that I should turn out a compilation CD of them. No one would probably buy it – least of all the exes – but it would certainly amuse me. And the back stories of why they ended up with that particular song would be worth it alone.
There are some songs that carry from one ex to another, however. Great Big Sea has a great song, “How Did We Get From Saying I Love You” that comes really close to saying it all. This one covers one of my first loves really well, who I stayed in contact with for some time and who at one time appeared to be the one.
It’s one of those Same Auld Lang Syne songs. You know the one. Where you meet up one day after the heat is all gone and you have nothing to say to one another except to talk about the weather. This has certainly happened to me on several occasions.
I find it both funny and mystifying how this happens in life. You go from talking non-stop about everything in the world, but when you see each other after the relationship has fallen apart, you can barely muster up a “Hi, how are you?” And as you talk you find yourself echoing the words of Great Big Sea, “How did we get from saying ‘I love you’ to ‘I’ll see you around someday.'”
I’m sure others have been there too. One moment things seem to be moving right along, you can’t get enough of each other, you text or call one another every chance you get, you can’t stand to be away from them for a moment, and then – POOF! – someone waves a wand and all the magic is gone, at least for one of you.
Rarely does it happen the same time. If it did, there wouldn’t be a ton of songs about these moments. But there are a lot of broken heart songs and they speak to us. Another favorite of mine is “Must Be Sinking Now.” Cheryl Wheeler wrote it. It starts out with one of my favorite lines in any lyrics which I will get to in a moment, but the chorus rings so true as well:
Cause when I see you I can’t let the past remain the past
All that heartache we brought on comes rushing back so fast
I can’t see no road ahead, just pulls me down somehow
And there’s so much water under that bridge, it must be sinking now
Boy, isn’t that true. It’s fine when a relationship ends for any number of reasons and you simply drift apart. You can even become good friends down the way. But if one of you is totally in love and the other isn’t, it’s hard to get past that hurt and yes, a feeling of betrayal because you feel as if the other person sold you a bill of goods and it turned out to be nothing but a bunch of B.S.
So, back to my favorite line in that song. It’s the opening line no less:
When we were in love, or whatever that was.
Yes, whatever that was. Looking back, I’m not sure I’ve always been in love. Instead, I have to use the term Eden’s Edge used in their song. I was in a Love Coma. God, what a great term for it. If you have a few moments, watch the video.
In a coma, a person can’t be awakened, they fail to respond to normal stimuli, they appear to be awake but they can’t feel, speak, move or hear. Sounds just like one of my infamous Love Comas. I have been in a comatose state on more than one occasion. I have floated around zombie like, living off love instead of brains.
Few of my friends would argue here. I’ve obviously lost all my brains when I am head over heels in love and headed for a Love Coma. I can convince myself of all sorts of nonsense, enveloping myself in a relationship that to all others is totally wrong for me.
In a Love Coma, all my vital signs go awry. I start talking nonsense, telling my friends that I suddenly love cats or cupcakes, or that Sex in the City is now my favorite show. I pretend I like Les Miserables. I figure having kids again wouldn’t be such a bad plan. And I even say that I would love to go dancing some time.
These are all signs that I am in a full on Love Coma. Worse, I have been in such a comatose state that I take leave of all my senses and consider moving away from everything I’ve known to create a new life with someone else. I have done this twice in my life. Fortunately, in California I awoke from the Love Coma in a month. Florida, well, that took a lot longer and my close friends were certain that I would never gain consciousness again, that I was a goner.
I almost was. Thankfully, my last great love gone wrong left me high and dry while I was in Key West. Thank God. Not only did she do me the biggest favor in releasing me from my bonds, she got a song in the process. OK, a couple songs. I’m still working out which one is most fitting.
I do like Cheryl’s song here, especially the lines:
With a shiver and chill, it haunts me still,
What a fool I was to have almost lost
Most of what’s dear of me.
Good stuff and so true. But I have to say I am leaning towards Bob Dylan’s “It Ain’t Me Babe,” largely because of the lines:
You say you’re looking for someone, Who’ll pick you up each time you fall,
To gather flowers constantly and to come each time you call,
A love of your live and nothing more…
It ain’t me babe. It ain’t me you’re looking for.
In the Emerald City, thankful that I’m no longer in a Love Coma,
– Robb