It was unexpected generally. I mean those closest to me know I'm partial to a bit of pop music but I'm not sure if anyone really expected us to have Rule The World by Take That as our first dance on our wedding day. My taste in music has always been of an "avant garde" persuasion, a point that was made by my Best Man in his speech. It was just another one of those opposite things that me and Laura had. Earlier in the day, during my speech, I remarked that it's the opposites that made our dynamic work. We were opposites in many ways in the things that we liked but all those things were exactly that, just things. They didn't define us. I said in my speech we didn't have to see eye to eye in such trivial subjects, after all it's more important to be facing the same direction than looking at each other or behind us. That wasn't the way we were going.
You light the skies up above me. A star so bright you blind me.
So Take That came as a little surprise. We had watched the movie Stardust leading up to the Big Day and had liked the song when it was in the charts, so I suggested it and Laura agreed. That was that. Another thing ticked off the wedding list. To be honest it was possibly the only input I had! Well, that and writing the names on the place cards.
13 years later the lyrics have taken on a whole new meaning. I didn't consider for a single moment back then that the words "don't close your eyes, don't fade away" would hurt my heart so much as they do now. The lyrics of the song are now completely about the loss of Laura. Rarely a day goes by when I don't listen to it. At first it was difficult but I played it anyway. On my own. On repeat. I would play it even though it hurt me to the core. I'd try to sing along but my voice would always break or I simply couldn't breathe due to the lump in my throat and the heaviness in my chest. But play it I did. I played it whilst doing chores around the house, crying over the kitchen sink wiping away tears with an already wet hand or stopping while hoovering, too weak with sadness to push the damn thing. It elicited feelings of anger and frustration, of sorrow and futility. It was like I was exorcising my grief. Those little episodes were the only occasions that it actually started to show. In the house, on my own, I'd let it out just enough to stop it totally debilitating me. I can play it more now without the almost overwhelming feeling of devastating heartbreak but I still feel every single syllable of those lyrics.
You saved my soul. Don't leave me now.
Although the song now describes perfectly the irreplaceable loss of Laura, the image that fills my head isn't the song playing as we said our final goodbyes at the funeral. What I see is us on a dance floor, me lifting her up and spinning her around at the chorus and that feeling of unbridled happiness we both shared 13 years ago today, 21st August 2010.
No comments:
Post a Comment