It’s that kind of day. I was hanging at Starbucks, using up and using up and using up the gift card my dear Andrea gave me, and on came a version of Joni Mitchell‘s “A Case of You” I had never heard before.
I fell in love to this song. Once. He always tied different-colored bandannas all over himself, and he would visit me late at night when no one knew or saw, after he had left his girlfriend(s) and we would be together and no one could ever know and I loved him and he was ashamed of me.
And this song brings it all back. This is a gorgeous version by French singer, Ana Moura.
By the way, he wasn’t a bad man, we were both terribly young; 18. I already had my own place. Long story. He was afraid. I thought it was what I deserved: being kept a secret, being asked not to be what and who I was, and being loved only in secret and conditionally – and you know what, turns out I never learned any better.
He wasn’t the first or last who asked me to hide. My fault. I never learned to say no when asked to compromise myself.
Song of the day. Song of my life. I miss those bandannas too.