How My Playlist Attracted My Soul Mate

One of the best ways to relax me entirely is to make me feel like I'm heard, seen, and understood. I love to talk to people who have been through similar things I've experienced; there is a bond in unique life events throughout all of humanity where, in just a fraction of them, you can connect with souls who have hurt the same way. Sometimes, though, I don't want other people to help me find my calm. Solitude is beneficial at the right time and for the right mood. For me, that's where music comes in.

I am not a well-organized Spotify user. I cram all of my favorite songs from all genres on one playlist and shuffle play everything, skipping when the mood for a song isn't striking me. I have a couple of specific playlists for nostalgic and feisty moods, but I don't care to put much effort in. My "Random Faves" list is my most comforting playlist above all, as it addresses so many facets of my personality, so I'll stick with its chaotic calm. My unique playlist is my ultimate relaxation.

Most importantly, I like to keep my music tastes private on a large scale. I've come to find that sharing my taste with others usually gets me judged, teased, or put down unless others actually (on a rare occasion) vibe with the multiple types of music I enjoy. Music fans can be negative when your taste isn't similar to theirs, and it's left a permanent desire to keep my interests to myself. I want to listen to my favorites without feeling the guilt of knowing people I love think poorly of me for doing so. People might say not to let others opinions get to me, but I have that unfortunate characteristic of being too softhearted.

Unknowingly to me when I joined Spotify and built my epic, messy, and (what I thought was a) private playlist, Facebook friends who also use Spotify can see what you've recently listened to on the app. Had I known that, I likely would have sought settings to make my playlists private or cover my tracks somehow.

Luckily, I didn't, and that's how it all started. My music found someone, and I was mortified to say the least, but I tried my hardest to play it cool.

We connected over a tremendous amount of songs in common, from the "coolest" artists all the way down to a competition of who had the most embarrassing song on a playlist. Unfortunately, he won, although that may not be so unfortunate (for the sake of a lifelong pact made that day, I will never tell what song he had that won the contest.)

There were lengthy discussions about what various songs meant to us and why. We connected through our love of relating to the lyrics, and both of us had been made fun of for our love of lyrics and "bad music" by people we cared about. Although music is usually my private "zen" I was very suddenly finding that one sole human on the planet utilized the exact same chaotic calm that I do (since what calms me can actually be quite chaotic sounding tunes!)

The best thing about realizing that we had so much in common, musically speaking, was how much it helped us open up as two very closed-off individuals; we both shared being burned too hard by former loves and, somehow, found a comfortable space in one another through our shared musical taste. Another bonus was that he was able to start sharing some songs with me I'd never heard and I absolutely loved them.

As our friendship continued, my playlist began changing a bit.

I add things regularly as they strike me as something my soul feels bonded to, and I tried to tell myself that I just really loved the songs years ago and that I only wanted to hear them again.

Then, he sent me the song "Periscope" by Papa Roach featuring Skylar Grey, and I found comfort in it. A comfort that actually terrified me.

I want to feel your wreckage, it's a firestorm

I'm falling like a loaded weapon in your arms

Paranoid it might be reckless, no matter what I say

It's only going to steal your breath and slip away

I don't want to dive in first

You don't want to hear these words

It's only going to make it worse

You don't want to live that curse

You're telling me to keep my hope

Cause you've got a heart of gold

But maybe you should let me go

I'll love you through a periscope

You wear your heart so fearless, it's like it doesn't beat

You push away my demons when they torture me

Don't think that I can fight this pressure pulling me underneath

It's like I've got the whole world tied around my feet

Everything escalated from there in a whirlwind of unexpected events. My chaotic calm was becoming a little more chaotic, and through music, we were expressing our feelings while trying to fight them with everything we had in our hearts.

Well, to make a long story short, fighting was useless. Spotify summoned us together, and the happiness we felt from being understood in music began to apply in a whole new way. Love songs were shared often, of course, particularly ones that were relevant to our long distance relationship. We spoke our hearts to one another through other artists' words and sounds, and it helped create an unusual foundation for bonding that neither of us had ever had before. We were used to our musical happiness being taunted by music snobs; suddenly, our musical taste was what started creating the most sensational relationship either of us have ever had.

We went from 1,100 miles apart to sleeping in the same bed every night, thanks to my collection of random music that makes me the happiest. Now I have happy music and a happy heart.

By the way, the "toxic, withered" comment is our aesthetic. Creepy, horror, spooky, and deadly. Pretty ironic coming from two avid fans of Bryan Adams, but we're satisfied with that contradiction.

Whether it's a playlist for meditation, working out, partying, or driving across state lines to see family, you have a playlist that someone is probably in love with. The level of connection we, as humans, can achieve through music if we all fearlessly admit our favorite songs and stop shaming others for differing tastes is otherworldly. To deny sharing my enjoyment is to deny the world the opportunity to connect with me, and I think connections are what we all need the most. After all, music is why I'm in eternal love. Imagine what else it could bring us.