Breakout, Swing Out Sister, It’s Better to Travel

Circa 1997 (Maybe ’96? I was probably living with him, but I can’t remember for sure), we were in the Toluca Lake apartment, listening to music, when this song starts to fill the room. (Was he playing the cassette that would later play regularly in our kitchen in Wrightwood? Probably, considering we were sporting matching 56k modems.)

“Oh, I’ve always loved this song!” I said, excited to hear it for the first time in several years. “But I got made fun of for liking it.”

“It’s a great song! You have good taste!” (or something similar) was his response. Ah, vindication! Yep, soulmates. . . .

It’s a huge thing to have someone validate the parts of your soul that others used as a reason to diss you. Kevin and I provided a lot of validation of these sorts of things for each other over the years. It was one of the reasons we said we were soulmates. Understanding another human being on such a personal, specific, yet seemingly random way is a hallmark not everyone will experience. I’m not even sure I’m doing a great job articulating it. It’s like someone lighting a candle in the darker places of your soul where you’ve chosen to hide those things that others have negatively labeled for no appropriate reason.

It’s also one of the good sides of Amour Fou–the love is intense and it tries its best to outweigh the intensity of the bad. And the cynical part of me who survived all the intensities is still processing it all.