My dearest Taylor,
I still remember the first song by you that I ever bought off of iTunes and downloaded onto my iPod Nano. It was “Place in This World,” and I danced around my room to your light-hearted, poppy crooning almost every day in seventh grade. “FINALLY,” I thought to myself, “Someone understands exactly how I feel!”
The melodrama and heart-wrenching yearning that filled the songs in your first and second albums flawlessly fit the soundtrack of my life as I peered over my gigantic geometry textbook at the gaggle of jocks across the library. “Maybe one day, Drew really will look at me,” I wished, as I put “Teardrops on my Guitar” on repeat (this song was made all the better by the obsession I had with the football player Drew). Taylor, you stuck with me when all I wanted was for Nick to look my way in Spanish class, when he finally did and I was head over heels, and one month later when he moved onto another curly-haired brunette. Your first album epitomized the height of my awkward stage—middle school.
Flash forward one year later—I’m a freshman in high school. “Thank god I’m finally over my awkward phase!” I thought to myself (lol yeah, okay freshman Aubrey). I had loved and lost and was pining over a particular water polo player, and when we attended the same wedding (I KNOW, A WEDDING—Taylor, you’d be so proud), all I could think was “I can’t WAIT to listen to Taylor when I get home!” because I knew you’d know exactly how to comfort me when he wouldn’t even glance my direction. (PS: the perfect song was indeed “Story of Us;” Tay, you’re a genius.) When I became a target of bullying for a few boys that thought it’d be hilarious to call me names and draw all over my poems that my teacher put up on her wall, I let my tears flow to your song “Mean” and reminded myself that one day, I’d be living in a ‘big ol’ city’ and they’d only ever be mean. (And now I’m living in Boston, while they’re stuck in farmland back in California—what now, b*tches!?!) And finally, on a more somber note, when my eleven year old sister came into my room on the 9th anniversary of 9/11 and asked me with tears in her eyes how people could ever be so evil, I listened to “Never Grow Up” as I searched for the secret to keeping my baby sister innocent, naïve, and happy.
Then—in what might be the most beautiful case of coincidence I’ve ever experienced—your album Red came out on the exact day my high school sweetheart and I broke up. Seriously, the song “Last Time” randomly came on as I drove to his house to plead for the last time to ‘put me at the top of his list.’ I let your CD spin endlessly in my little Prius as I belted out the lyrics to “All Too Well” and “Red” and sped down the 91. I parked my car and cried my little heart out to “State of Grace” and “Holy Ground.” Then, the night I met the boy I knew would heal my broken soul, I listened to “Everything Has Changed” with stars in my eyes.
T-Swift, more than anyone else (besides maybe my fabulous momma), you’ve been there for me in heartbreak and joy. I’ve shared my secrets with you as I cry to your sad songs and smile like a fool to your happy ones. I dance to “22” with friends after breakups and then curl up in bed with Hershey’s bars and wads of tissues to cry to “Last Kiss.” I constantly tell bemused and probably annoyed boyfriends that “THIS IS OUR SONG!!!” as I crank up the volume to “Sparks Fly” and “Mine.”
And now, on October 27th, you’re releasing your newest album—1989. Since your last album came out, I’ve been accepted into my dream school. I’ve moved across the country and learned how to properly pronounce “Worchestire” and “Faneuil” and “nor’easter.” I’ve been in love, I’ve been dumped, I’ve been the one doing the dumping. I’ve done things and said things I regret with my whole heart, and I’ve become a little more cynical about love. But I’m here with open arms and open ears, ready to immerse myself in your new album. Because so often, Tay, you’ve known what I need to hear more than I know myself. My heart is a little fragile and the repertoire of songs I identify with has begun to diminish. I can’t wait for your songs to bring me back to my happy memories and my sad ones, and to get me through any new experiences I’ll have in the next few years. Thank you, Taylor Swift, for actually being one of the best friends I’ve ever had. I can’t wait to hear what you have in store.
Much love,
Aubrey