it was all for you

I love Pandora.

I probably even love it more than my iPod, which is saying something because Gad has a pretty important place in my life (and yes, I named my iPod). When I hit the Pandora app on my phone this morning, it was immediately apparent that Mitch was the last one to use it since I found myself listening to Gucci Mane radio (really?). Me, I’m more into Jason Mraz radio (the absolute best station for any mood).

Anyway, this morning I was, of course, listening to Jason Mraz radio as I drove to today’s shoot, jamming to the likes of Ingrid Michelson, Matt White and, of course, Jason Mraz, when an old favorite came on. As soon as I heard the opening chords of Sister Hazel’s All For You, I felt myself slipping back to wintertime two years ago.

The boy I dated before Mitch was a guitar player. Well, is a guitar player because I really have no reason to assume he’s not still playing. Our relationship was (at best) tumultuous and (at worst) absolutely devastating, so when it ended I tried to push every single memory of him out of my mind. Even the good ones. Or perhaps especially the good ones. But this morning, listening to Sister Hazel, I remembered a good one and found myself less inclined to cringe than usual.

Leo said he had a surprise for me and, no, he couldn’t tell me where we were going. We drove through and all around our small college town until we arrived at a park, a park I had never really taken the time to visit. At first I was less than impressed; it was chilly and I wasn’t really in the mood to traipse around some stupid park grounds. But as we parked and made our way out of the truck, he grabbed a picnic basket and his guitar from the back where he had hidden them both.

C’mon, he said, and so I followed.

We waded through weeds and brush and thorns until we stopped in a small clearing, secluded enough by the tall trees to feel like this was ours and we were alone. I stood behind Leo as he spread a blanket on the cold ground and started to lay out the food he’d brought for us (peanut butter & jelly sandwiches and chocolate chip cookies). We sat and we ate, but then he started to play. And then he sang, words can’t say / and I can’t do / enough to prove / it’s all for you. It was like magic and I was transfixed.

I mentioned that there was a lot of hurt, a lot of dishonesty, and just plain a lot of bad in our relationship. I’d get so angry, so completely fed up and want to walk away, but then Leo would manage to do something like this, something unexpected and special, something that made me feel special.

And for whatever reason (love?), those moments were enough to convince me that everything would be okay.

Now, obviously, things didn’t end up being okay, and it’s taken time (lots of time) to be in a place where I can write about this without bitterness. A year ago, maybe even six months ago, I don’t know that I could have heard All For You and not have been momentarily thrown into a downward spiral. Hearing it this morning and being able to immediately remember the good instead of immediately remembering the bad…well, it’s nice.

It’s nice to be able to dust off old memories.

It’s even nicer not to cry in the process.