Twelve New Songs

Nothing is more intimate than music.

Sound crosses boundaries that touch cannot — traveling through the air, bouncing off walls, all because of tiny vibrations. It simply transcends space and time.

From the moment the idea pops into the artist’s mind to the first time someone listens to it, something beautiful is constantly being created. Whether that is literally the creation of music itself, or the new emotions that a person experiences upon listening to it for the first time. That connection, the one between artist and listener, is real. Whether one physically interacts with the other is irrelevant, because the simple act of listening to someone pour their heart and soul into a track and being able to recognize those emotions in oneself is perhaps the most intimate connection of all.

Two strangers. One coming from the north, the other from the south. One tall, one short. One wears headphones, the other earbuds.

Yet they are listening to the same song.

Completely separate lives, and yet they are somehow connected via one small coincidence. 

The tall one finds the song fun; he listens because he likes the vibe. The short one listens because something about it makes them feel something, something real. Whether it’s the lyrics or the beat, they cannot possibly put their finger on it. It just … sounds right.

They bump shoulders.

”Sorry,” the tall one says, taking out one earbud and turning.

The short one pays him no mind, except for a small glance. A simple recognition. They may never interact again, but fate would put them in the same spot, listening to the same song, and bring them together through a bump. There’s something especially intimate about listening to the same song, two souls connecting with the same work of art, despite how differently they view it.

A young man and woman stand next to each other, waiting for their bus. 

“What are you listening to?” He asks.

”Here,” she says, handing him one earbud. “See for yourself.”

He leans a little closer and places it in his ear. Warm, vibrant, and calm. Just like her. 

They’re shoulder to shoulder now. She bumps him. He bumps her back. They giggle. What’s more intimate than that?

They hatch an idea: a shared playlist. Something so small and seemingly insignificant that it should hardly be a cause for distress, and yet it seems daunting. What songs do I pick that will maintain this idea of me that she has in her head? It’s like putting your heart on a platter and saying, “Here, this is me. What do you think?” It’s so precious, that new phase. You’re still trying to figure things out. It’s natural to be a little scared.

But nothing beats the feeling of refreshing the page to see they’ve added twelve new songs. And soon you realize … they’re putting their heart on a platter too. They’re sharing with you twelve new parts of themself, and you have the privilege of loving and embracing all of it.

And, to me, that is the most intimate thing of all.