I MADE YOU A PLAYLIST

Link to the playlist

Burgundy by capespring.

What are you thinking? What do you think of me? Do you think of me? I run my fingers through your hair as if to touch the thoughts beneath. I can’t be a vessel for your love, but I can be what you’re dreaming of.

Remember the first time that we met? We dated casually for a little while, only to find ourselves entangled in the web of a fervent romance. You said you were serious about me from the jump which I see now in hindsight, whereas I envisioned a fleeting two-week affair. Scepticism clung to me like a shadow, hesitancy, owed to your flirtatious online persona and the vileness of your testosterone-fuelled group chat. How quickly 2 weeks turned into 2 years. I was taken aback by how quickly those reservations faded away, the turning point was the day that we were to meet. We were to go to a comedy show but you hadn’t secured the reservations in advance. What a coincidence that all the beginning of it all took, was for both of us to shed our reservations. You found out earlier but didn’t tell me until I called, worried you would upset me. I laughed. Stand up comedians rarely get a chuckle out of me anyways, the point was it is you I wanted to see, I said. Improvising, we opted for a restaurant. My nerves were palpable. In the realm of face-to-face interactions, where shyness reigns and words often falter, I wrestled with the fear of falling short of your expectations. The fact that you were more nervous than I was put me at ease and we both just stumbled our way through the conversation, you drove me home and were eager to see me again so we met each other the next day and the next. Our subsequent rendezvouses were special — your visible fluster, unintentional sweet utterances. No contrived effort to win me over; just a canvas of genuine expressions. Hooking me without the bait. Your friend told me how you’d gotten new jewellery especially to meet me, and made them help you pick. I found that so sweet, these three boys in their trap house putting their joints down and having a teen chick flick makeover moment, for me. You owe them a beer or two, seeing as it was the first compliment I gave you. How endearing, I dubbed you sweet boy then. You look perfect even after you’ve just woken up, you said to me. I would wonder what you were thinking of me, if you thought of me and almost telepathically, your responses unfurled with actions.

Uneasy by Metronomy x spill tab

You’re reaching farther now than I have ever known.

Then came nocturnal drives and rooftop skies, making friendly ties with all your boys, parking lot conversations filled with secrets only bound for the grave next, baking me cinnamon rolls, road trips to pick me up from work. Our adventures birthed humorous tales like when you got lost and ended up in a field with prisoners playing football, road trips to your family’s scenic residences, it was cold then and you called me a nerd for saying the scenery reminded me of when a Harry Potter Dementor was in the vicinity, pretty lakes and feet touching bare grass. But I get uneasy when the love hints at permanency. I’m a fiend for falling in love and honeymoon stages but I’m afraid of the inevitable pulling away when I feel like I need freedom. All I had ever known was my migrational patterns of flying, seeking new nectar when I had savoured all the flowers had to offer, a cage held no allure. So, I self-sabotaged, started weaving feelings for somebody else, the web was weak but I figured it would be a good enough temporary shelter when ours came undone. You were the one that was in touch with your feelings, anchored me as I reached for the skies, in your gentle pull, I discovered a new dimension to love — one that embraced both flight and grounding. This song gives me that same ease.

Break from Toronto by PARTYNEXTDOOR

That smile on your face makes it easy to trust you, those innocent eyes

I allowed my defences to crumble, inviting vulnerability as the dragon at my gate retreated to its cave and how relieving it felt to fall into your arms, my heart beating freely with the liberation of its once-locked chains. You became my refuge, my secret garden when I needed to escape the cruelties of my home. All I could smell were roses and so I put on their tainted glasses. Your eyes lit up and shone with light whenever you smiled, I revelled in that glow. A sweet smile for the sweet boy, so I gravitated towards the light the more I ran away from the dark. Note how I consistently lauded your sweetness; a sensitivity you hated in a world that expects men to embody toughness. Yet big strong tough guys don’t make me feel safe, kind people do. You were insecure about yourself, maybe because I never said you look handsome as often as you told me I was beautiful. I should’ve voiced the sentiments nestled between my lines; I’m more inclined to metaphorical than direct statements. You walked a mile to get me a charger, are those dew drops on your hair, you were rained on? In place of You look beautiful with those rain drops glistening in your hair and even Moreso for such thoughtfulness. I like the colour of your shirt in place of That colour really brings out your beauty. But for real, who even likes the colour peach? I thought it was obvious what I was aiming at. My bashfulness remains a hindrance to me articulating my feelings, it’s hard to shrug off. I had had almost nil experiences with love before you, the few I had were marred by deceit and you had given me a break from Toronto. I trusted you wholeheartedly, a feat never achieved by anyone else, not even family.

DOLLHOUSE by Melanie Martinez

Everyone thinks that we’re perfect, please don’t let them look through the curtains

D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E, I see things that nobody else sees

In recounting the fragments of my childhood, I find myself struggling to explain the peculiar detachment I had. It’s as if I was merely an eyewitness, observing my own life unfold from the room’s corner. As a result, I became a dualist, always attaching a partition between myself in my head and my body experiencing the present. It’s a paradox where the body perceives, while the mind contemplates — while still being an entity, both within and yet paralysed, capable only of thought. I guess it is why I have a hard time being in the now but can easily look back on it with introspection. How I become a slave to nostalgia. The slippery slope lies in the fact that only under the influence of alcohol do I achieve a semblance of presence, a temporary unity between mind and body with the drink blurring the boundaries and allowing a momentary reunion. This dissociation birthed a self-imposed responsibility to maintain facades, pretending that everything was okay within my family. Like our true reality was dirty linen not to be aired for unintended eyes. It’s why I clenched up in fear whenever my father faltered and had an episode of anger in public, the eyes that looked on felt like judges buzzing me out of the stage, I had failed at upholding the illusion of normalcy. I don’t know why I assigned myself the directorial and clean-up crew role. I was always planning ahead to thwart the honesty of what lay within, my body would betray me by crying but my mind would sweep the damage under the rug, make up a tale about why the eyes were swollen, change the topic when asked about the shouting the neighbour’s heard in our house, make up fantasies about why my father was abroad and why all of a sudden, the school fees was paid late. I was lying to myself and consequently I failed to reconcile the two, the lines becoming blurred.

I tell myself that my upbringing did not trickle down into my relationships and yet just like my mother and I forgave my father’s cruel ways and held onto the good, I forgive my lovers and justify the reasoning behind their actions. Perhaps also to justify my wrongs as arising not out of malice but borne out of trauma. For I never want to purposefully hurt an innocent person, I can’t imagine that anybody else does. Just like my father failed to pick me up on the weekends when he said he would; even after we had spent some time together with me showing off my personality and making him laugh, I would beg my partners not to abandon me, wonder what I did wrong when I had been beautiful and funny and sexy. Just like my mother’s I love you’s dwindled, as the hugs became barely present and she acted irritated when I was playful with my love, I struggle to admit my feelings for people, feeling nauseous at the vulnerability of something I deem too sappy. Just like my father apologised by telling us he was ill, that it was the borderline personality disorder, I cry to my partners that I didn’t mean to when I hurt them and cite my trauma.

I detached myself so much from their being not realizing the extent to which their claws had sunk so deep in me and their venom permeated into my identity.

Show Me How by Men I Trust

Show me how you care

The friend I’m dreaming of is far away, and doesn’t feel my love, but I do

A major point of contention in our relationship was that I didn’t show you enough that I cared. Communicating my affection became a challenge, as I struggled to conform to conventional expressions of love, how could I tell you that herein lies my uniqueness and complexities, that I was at least cut out for prize for Most Improved, that I had achieved heights I had not yet jumped over before. That you saying this only reinforced the notion I had that proper love was an elusive concept beyond my reach, that I felt unappreciated yet guilty that I was unable to provide what you desired. It throws me for a loop when what I feel is the most that I could muster, ends up being a droplet of water to the vast ocean of your desires. I showed you how the best I could.

Love Drought by Beyonce

All the loving I’ve been giving goes unnoticed, it’s just floating in the air

If I wasn’t me, would you still feel me? Like on my worst day?

We had many love droughts in the course of our relationship. I remember the first almost left me emaciated. I trusted you fully, you were my sweet boy. You know during those gal pal nights when the conversation is punctuated with a sigh and ‘no man is a saint’? I fully and irrevocably proclaimed you as the exception, placed you on a high pedestal, because I trusted you with all my being but you came hurtling down. I had no qualms about your online persona anymore despite the little bickering here and there, I trusted you. It crushed my soul when I found out you were entertaining another, it crushed my ego that you were denying me too. Coming to the realisation that it happened wasn’t hard, but from you? It stung, I had to rearrange my world, but you’d forgiven me so I forgave you. A couple more trials came, majority fuelled by my being an object of desire on the internet but I understood it because as love grows, jealousy penetrates easier. I even took a bit of a step back from it all.

I don’t care about the lights or the beams, spend my life in the dark for the sake of you and me

I know I looked jealous and crazy complaining that you always seemed to gravitate towards girls who did not look like me, in the likes, the following, but didn’t you prove me right when the second drought came when I found out that you were seeking these things from another, embarrassing me in the process.

What’s worse looking jealous or crazy? or like being walked all over lately? I’d rather be crazy.

Even you can attest to that.

My past came back, dreams of an uber driver and a gun equalling to a love hate relationship with sex. A past I had been able to tuck away in the recesses of my mind as I’d met you soon after and you offered welcome distraction. That was the drought that made our love the Sahara. The pain was profound; I believed our shared experiences should have formed the foundation of our connection, valuing the essence of who we were, not just what we had to offer. If I was soul devoid of body, would you love me the same, if the scars of my past reappear would you still stay? Yet still I understood you, that it might have been hard to resist my allure, that’s why you asked me to withdraw my physical affection, because it was teasing, tormenting. But I still loved you, you had demonstrated a depth of care few could match. You had seen all of me, my past, my present, my fears and hopes. Despite this, that left a bitter taste in my mouth that I never could swallow.

We went to the ocean to escape the drought. I stopped listening to We are the People as often as I did after that trip. Every time I hear it now, all I can smell is the beach and all I can see is the orange sun setting to its tune. That trip is so bittersweet and I still push the memories of it away because it was perfect in every way. It felt like we had escaped the drought, turns out we were only stuck in limbo because we ended up coming right back to it.

Alone by Halsey

See, everywhere I go I got a million different people tryna kick it but I’m still alone in my mind

I got a problem with parties cause it’s loud in my brain

But if you ask why I’m distant oh I’m running away

I know you wanna slip under my armour

The year everything went to shit largely bears my fingerprints, maybe that’s what makes it so hard. I always told you that I’m a difficult lover and foretold of a point where you would regret our union but you wanted to slip under my armour. In moments of bitterness, I wonder why you express frustration when I had forewarned you of the impending storm. A year later, the warnings seemed to have faded from view, perhaps the gravity of my cautionary tales slipped from your memory. Depression has a twisted sense of humour. It’s like that movie character that can’t get the hint that he’s annoying and will show up at your door just when you relaxed and entertained the possibility that you got rid of him. I always told you how I acted in my bouts of depression, now you just had a 3D view. Living was exhausting, all I desired to do was lessen as much of the exhaustion as I could, talk to people less, shed pretences, dedicate my energy to enduring the presence of this unwelcome companion until he departed. I naturally isolated and when I couldn’t I distracted myself. I had lots more free time then, as you had started work, so the hours we would spend chatting the day away were replaced with solitude that got me attuned to my own company. My life became a series, of school, outings, sleep and clutching at any straw that would drown out the noise. Your berating at my distance felt like nagging when I felt like I had bigger fish to fry, wondering why you couldn’t get the spatula and help but instead insisted on being thrown into the pan too. I was fleeing my visitor and, in the process, ended up running from you.

Hard to love by Jessie Reyez

Baby, I’d rather be hard to love than easy to leave

I love it when your roots go deep so I know you won’t leave

I’m acutely aware that my actions are causing you pain, and the realization is a heavy burden on my soul. The pain that festers within me extends its reach, creating a cycle where my own anguish compounds your suffering, which, in turn, inflicts a fresh wave of pain upon me. It’s an unending loop, persisting until it exhausts itself. It never ends until the end and then you start again.

I repeatedly questioned if I’m reduced to a mere trophy in your eyes, valued solely for my appearance and other people’s perception of our relationship. The authenticity of our love became a recurring doubt in my mind. I find myself battling with the uncertainty of whether your love is deeply rooted enough to transcend the superficial aspects. Can you bear how hard it is to love me? But If I do love you, should I make you bear it? This is when I draw pyramids and maps on paper and no matter how many different formulas I use, I can only trace the beginning of the end to myself.

I like being ugly, that way if they love me, I know that they love me for real

Normal Girl by SZA

Wanna be a type of girl, I know your fellas they’d be proud of

I wish I was a normal girl

Those around you can’t help but notice the transformation I’ve induced in you. Your friends, concerned, urge you to leave me. I yearn for being capable of a conventional love, the mundane beauty of a love that follows a linear trajectory, like those girls who dream of being an old married couple with their high school sweethearts. I yearn for the normalcy that you effortlessly embody. I am determined to untangle my intricacies, I’ll change, I promise and we can be better. I can stop hurting you.

This time next year, I’ll be living so good won’t remember no pain I swear

Sorry by Halsey

Sorry to my unknown lover

Didn’t mean to leave you and all of the things that we had behind

I heard this song for the first time in a long time when we had not spoken for a few days. No matter how bad things got we never deviated from our norm of constant communication, this was a sure sign of the end and the song coming back to me felt like a messenger sent to stamp it in. Wrestling with the reality that what I claimed as my nature was, in truth, a disregard for others’ feelings, I confronted the impact of my adventurous spirit on those around me. My penchant for variety was actually treating people as interchangeable accessories — silver today, gold tomorrow. It’s much better not to try any. I wish I could let you know that the care I harbor remains unwavering even amidst these actions, in the memories that linger of you, in my mind refusing to forget the nuances that make you happy and those that make you, in the home that I built for you in my heart staying erected because even though you are no longer a resident, it will always serve as a museum.

Star Shopping by Lil Peep

Look at the sky tonight, all of the stars have a reason, a reason to shine, a reason like mine and I’m fallin to pieces

The absence of your presence amplifies the quiet, making the silence uncomfortably loud. The persistent darkness seems more pronounced without the glow of your light. Adjusting to the void, I find myself without the familiar outlet to vent when my family is back on their bullshit. You insist that I can still come to you, but that only adds to the difficulty, it’s no longer your obligation to shoulder my concerns. Although my friends are a source of support, they only know half the story. Unpacking the entirety of my struggles feels like an eternity, and there are aspects I’m not ready to share, not wanting it to shatter their perception of me. I get home after a long day and can’t tell you about it, can’t complain about the men that nagged me today or laugh at one that did something funny, tell you what colour butterflies I saw, which bugs I turned right side up and what shape the clouds were today, we try to talk but it feels like walking on eggshells and only leads to arguments. The dark is engulfing and I miss my star, with a reason to shine, I need to go star shopping.

My Blood by Twenty-One Pilots

Stay with me, no, you don’t need to run

Accepting the end of our romantic relationship is not the most challenging aspect; rather, it’s the daunting prospect of envisioning your permanent absence from my life. You had starred in daydreams of my future and my mind is finding hard it to adapt to removing you from graduation guestlists and birthday parties. The foundation of friendship we built took such solid root that it’s hard to demolish even with the demise of the romantic. The unspoken acknowledgment of lingering romantic feelings adds an undeniable weight to the room. We both recognize that attempting to reignite the romantic flame would be ill-fated, yet neither of us wishes to sever the bond entirely, but lack ways to cut the tension and ease seamlessly into the friendship. In my unconventional nature, I implored you, just this once, to cast aside the invisible rulebook that dictates our course. You don’t need to run.

Mango by KAMAUU

I don’t want nothing but you getting what you need even if it ain’t from me

I never want to be cruel to you

We had a talk and realised how painful it was to not know each other anymore. Or at least I did, I don’t know if the distance is turning you into a stranger, because you tell me one thing but others another, yet I seldom speak ill of you. Before, when I imagined you with somebody else, treating her like you treated me, according her that same kindness and love, nervous about which date would impress her most, my chest would bubble with ire, ire so hot it would scald me, it’s what caused most of our arguments, me asking ‘oh and who is that I saw you replying to on twitter’, followed by a spat and vice versa. It made the bridge between us grow longer and longer and I realised the distance might become too long for me to cross, so I forced myself to embark on exposure therapy. I would see your replies and not probe, talk to you regardless, it did reduce the arguments, next came deleting the burner accounts and not stalking anymore. I was being a very brave girl. I slowly became okay with it, if that was the price to pay then so be it. You accepted too, albeit begrudgingly, but it’s easier said than done. Unprepared to engage with new acquaintances, I relied on those who had been a constant in my life but you already harboured reservations about them, then came the ultimatums and ultimately the fallout.

So Good at Being in Trouble by Unknown Mortal Orchestra

Now that you’re gone, it’s been a long lonely time

I’m in a strange state of mind

Memories they mess with my mind

I know that you’re thinking about leaving me for good. I know it. Friendship be damned. It was pretty audacious of me to ask you to stay in the first place. I have that headstrongness that can prove to be obstinacy sometimes, convinced that my utilitarian solutions will solve everything if everybody just follows my lead. I let go of my claim on you, it’s still love but I can’t dictate how we navigate the hurt I caused. I’m good at a lot of things, I reckon, writing, dancing, cooking, being trouble, being in trouble. How good I am at these things is subjective and I’ll never really know, but one thing I’m sure I’m bad at is being in love, not giving it but being in it, experiencing it. It’s still a stranger to me, in more ways than one.

She was so good at being in trouble, so bad at being in love

Eventually by Tame Impala

Wish I could turn you back into a stranger

I know I always said that I could never hurt you, this is the very very last time that I’m going to

I made you vow to never hurt me once, I don’t know if you remember. You said that that’s an unrealistic promise to make but you would try. I wish I listened to you; all I heard is that you would try. It would have been easier to cope if I did. I don’t want it but maybe one day I’ll get used to this, this current reality will become a distant memory. But knowing me I doubt it. My genie wish number one would be to be normal, it would solve a lot of my problems, even my parents tell me I don’t think realistically. Eventually.

Go Boy by Odie

Doubtful but I like to pretend, I do know that I’ll find you again.

Alternate timelines, future timelines, or maybe one last bumping into each other in a street in future. Go boy. If it’s willed, I’ll find you again.