A person's favourite song, book, or movie can sometimes reveal the most intimate parts of them. Like a concealed passageway to the secret attic of a house, where all sorts of odds and ends previously cherished lie. Not necessarily forgotten, just hidden away from the rest of the world. Like some dreams that never die, buried in the creases of pillows, lingering until it unfurls itself in the middle of the night and catches you by surprise. For the longest time I bought into the idea that every lock had only one key to unlock it. But that is not true. Many things serving vastly different purposes can open the same lock. A paper clip, a hairpin, a toothpick, a credit card, a screwdriver. Things that do not fit perfectly the first time might, given some time.
I remember a time when we were under the stars, creating our own stars with sparklers. I was 17 wishing I was 21, because I believed that 21 was when the pieces of my life would fall magically into place. Bear in mind that stars are just big balls of gases with limited life spans too. The more massive the star, the faster it burns out and die, but not without exploding spectacularly first. I didn't know this then. There are some moments in life that are more defining than others; one of which is of you thinking you were whole until you realised you weren't. From that moment on you live the rest of your life burdened with the longing to become whole again. That was then I decided what my favourite song was.
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