There was this country singer who was popular when I was in middle and high school. His name was Bryan White and his slow, sad songs about lost love were everything my clueless over dramatic teenage heart wanted to listen to. Sure, I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I pretended to. I imagined.
Now, twenty years later with some heartbreak written in my ledger, I do understand. One of his songs is on my mind today. It’s called “I’m Not Supposed to Love You Anymore.” I hate that I know what he’s talking about now, but I’m happy my heart still responds to his voice.
Music expresses what I often can’t.