|Always assuming that either Edie Brickell or Paul Simon|
is a loyal Drunkard. Right?
Musicians are amazing, you know? They're talented, they're sensitive (at least when they're playing), they're perpetually interesting.
And the love of their life is...their music.
|I get it. Really. Because I'm a writer.|
Hard cold truth: Loving a musician means - at best - sharing his/her heart with music.
If you love a musician, the best you can hope for is a polyamorous relationship. You will never be their only love. Their first love? PAFF. Musicians will never put you first. No matter how much they love you, they cannot ever put you first. Music is always #1.
If you can accept that, you can share a piece of their heart. Which is a beautiful thing. Maybe the most beautiful thing you'll ever know.
But you will not - cannot - command their devotion. They can't hear you over the constant cacophony in their head.
Don't even try shouting. Trust me.
Love yourself before even attempting to love a musician. It's your only - only - shot at survival.
I'm in love with a musician. But I have no intention of sacrificing my soul to the capricious winds of his attention.
I am myself. No matter what.
I believe that he and I will meet halfway in our respective arts.
It's the only way I can love him.
If I'm wrong, I still have my soul.
How many of you can say that?