Rantings of a Creole Princess: Music That's In My Head

Play me while reading the following:

"Whatever. I don't care."

"I don't believe you."

"I don't care what you believe. I can't give you the power to hurt me again."

"I know. And I'm so sorry. I'm not proud of what I did but you have to understand, you told me you no longer loved me, no longer wanted to be with me and well...that fucked me up. I was so hurt, so very, very hurt and the only thing I could think was that, you know what? Other women want me. So what that she doesn't. And the only thing I was thinking when I was with her was that I should punish her for not being you and I fucked her. Hard. And I rolled away feeling emptier than I've ever felt in my life. I felt lost. Like...I'd never have the life I wanted. I'd never have what my parents had because I was fucked up and have been since my father died and I lay there and thought of nothing but what I needed to do in order to get you back so I could FEEL again so when you walked in, and saw me at the lowest point of my life...truly...unbelievably...I wanted to die. I know I fucked up. I know I'm fucked up. I know more than you think I know cuz I know that I've never been more alive than I was when I was with you. I miss you so much. I miss the possibilities. I miss every.single.thing about you. Please forgive me. Or...at least try. Please."

He stood there begging, pleading with every fiber of his being and through her tears she watched him, chest heaving, mad as hell at the hurt he caused her. The DEVASTATION she experienced finding him in bed with another woman only a day after they'd broken up.

She closed her eyes.

Took a deep breath.

Open her mouth and said...

I was watching Selena Gomez this morning and heard the song above.

You know how sometimes music triggers a memory in you ? Well...this song triggered a memory for me and it made me laugh.

I remember getting something wrong and I was trying to make myself feel better about it because I've always been extremely hard on myself. My father came home and questioned why I got the something wrong in that directly confrontational way he had.

Me: Well...I mean...I'm not perfect.

Dad: (straight up YELLING!) WHO SAYS YOU'RE NOT PERFECT! YOU'RE PERFECT DAMMIT! DON'T LET ME HEAR YOU SAY YOU'RE NOT PERFECT AGAIN! YOU'RE PERFECTLY YOU! NOW GO GET ME SOME DAMN WATER!

I went to get him some water.

My mother was in the kitchen and heard him yelling.

Mom: Why is your father yelling?

Me: Cuz apparently I'm perfect.

Mom: *BLINK*

I love my life.

Do songs trigger memories in you as well? Mostly sad, happy or funny as hell?