Request & Dedication - Liar, Liar

Dear Casey,

You know how you can have a song with someone, yes? ...Right...your show is more or less dedicated to the concept.  

Since I was 15 or 16 I've had a song with a boyfriend from that time [period], and because the "relationship" has continued in various (and wildly unhealthy) forms over the past 21 years, we've collected enough music for a soundtrack. (21 years...? That's an entire person-who-can-drink long. I've no idea how that happened.) 

This guy - who, for the purpose of this letter (and in the interest of accuracy), we'll call Liar, Liar - was my first love. I thought I might think differently of it/him later in life, but even still - having experienced other relationships, he remains my first true love. (My apologies for the gooey use of the word "true"; there was no way around it.) I wish I could explain the relationship - if only for my own benefit. 

Liar, Liar's particular magic - is actually magic. He disappears and reappears every 2-3 years - like clockwork. ..Like clocks that measure time specifically in 24-36 month spans. It's really quite impressive. It's also insane. (I trust there's no need to review the definition of insanity.) While social media has certainly made his biennial popping-out-of-the-woodwork easier, he maintained it prior to Facebook - prior to Myspace and Classmates, even. This is no easy task as I just might be a nomad. 

He's reappeared recently - figuratively (e-mail, text, phone). I haven't seen him and have no plans to do so. I'm the girl here, Casey, and I [admittedly] act like one when it comes to him - a stupid girl. I respond to the e-mail, the phone call, the carrier pigeon. I contribute - and that's on me. Initially, it was simply hard not to.. I was always drawn back toward him. That first-love bullshit had a hold on me, on my heart, and so I responded. Each time, it ended badly. And each *next* time, he worked hard to convince me he had changed - grown. There were [routinely] 3-4 hour conversations each night...conversations turned speeches, one bumper-sticker shy of a campaign. Inevitably, we would circle back to our teenage love and reflect on our story - and I'd be willing to try again. Because I can be an idiot. Once you know the difference though, it's not making the same mistake twice or three times - it's a choice. A bad choice, a poor decision. 

I'm content to say that this time is different. The first-love hold is no longer there and if I talk to him, it's because I want to. It turns out though that if I don't engage, he behaves quite differently (profound, Amanda). It's liberating - to be able to take it or leave it. Even better, to have no real interest. And it's nice to not feel stupid...falling for the same song and dance (he's a good dancer) and then punishing myself for having done so - again. In the grand scheme, the relationship is an important one. It has shaped a few things for me and though, like college, it took me much longer than it should have...I did learn quite a lot. 

Our on-again/off-again soundtrack of 21 years has some great music from the 90's, some excellent slow-dance songs, a little Blue October, and some other songs that made sense for us, even if we didn't. I'm terribly sentimental, so I'll keep the soundtrack. In a box. We have a new song though and if he ever reads this (erm...hears your show), then I suppose he'll know about it too.

Casey, please play I Never Knew You by the Avett Brothers for Liar, Liar - who I'll always care about, but never need to see again.


(Pardon the poor video - the album is a bit new and there isn't anything better posted. Yet.)

Comments make me happy. Do it. Great big bowls of love.. ~ A

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