It was last weekend when my “boyfriend” and I had the house to ourselves. My mother-in-law was up for an overnight visit with the kids. When this very rare event happens he puts a movie into the kitchen television that we would normally not be able to watch. His go-to is always “Bridesmaids.” It makes him belly laugh during the scene when they’re on the plane and the Kristin Wiig is drunk. Anyway, I digress. In the end they feature Wilson-Phillips singing. I mentally note that I’ll search it later on Spotify and catch up with some old tunes.
One day while I’m home making dinner, before anyone else gets there, I turn on the ol’iphone and blare the trio in my Bose speakers. Let’s just say that my body might’ve been in my kitchen, but my mind was crossing the Maryland bridge, tucked under the steering wheel of my Celica, crying my eyes out after just seeing my ex-boyfriend. We had met up for lunch that day and got caught up with each other’s lives. He’d been away at college.
With each song, “Release Me” … “You’re in Love” … I was there in that moment. I was singing like I could’ve taken over for lead vocal in their next concert. If only I could remember why I go into rooms sometimes I’d be happy! Anyway, it was all right there. The emotions, just like it was an hour ago. The lyrics stabbing my heart like sharp needles, rattling emotions. I belted out the entire album (my toy Yorkie starring at me with a look of whether to run or stay) and then placed it back into the corners of my mind…in my heart. Music has that sort of effect on me.