Don't Know Why There's No Sun Up in the Sky

I've been doing some catch-up on a bit of tedious stuff at work the past couple of days. That's when I usually bust out the trusty iPod.

Usually I just put it on one of my favorite playlists (I have several-- all separate purposes and for different moods-- I need to create additional ones that are even more granular). Or, a specific artist for whom I'm in the mood. With nearly 80 gigs at my fingertips, there are seemingly endless options, as I can listen solidly for over a month and never repeat a track unless it's a song on more than one album (especially on artists for whom I own the whole discography).

Today, it was Jamie Cullum. I often forget how much I like him because he doesn't get much play these days. It's not until I'm a few songs into it and feeling a little melancholy that I remember why it is he's not usually in heavy rotation beyond a song or two.

For some reason, he really reminds me of J. I have no real idea why, although the answer must lie inside me somewhere. We never played or sang his stuff together, nor did we even listen to him together. I think he'd have liked him a lot, but we just never got to him in our marathon sessions of passing recommendations back and forth. And when I asked once, he hadn't heard of him. There are certain songs I see him as doing very well, I suppose. And others I think just lyrically bring me to a place we shared. Hard to put into words, really.

It doesn't help that it's blustery out, constantly threatening to snow, but not ever quite getting there. Stormy weather helps melancholy along, no matter how trivial. I miss him less and less, but sometimes I get a flash and, when I do, it seems to linger for a little while. Thankfully, not really any longer than an afternoon or evening

It's been months now. We haven't spoken a word to each other and doubt we ever will again (I don't envision him ever being out here to run into, so that's a convenience). I don't think about it every day, by any stretch. There are also things I definitely DON'T miss, but I miss my friend. And being around someone who really "got" me on a pretty deep level in ways many don't or even could. Sadly, platonic friendship and me aren't a combination he could really handle. In an "all or nothing" situation, when it was clear it wasn't going to be "all", I knew it would lead to the "nothing".

I love all of my friends and the varied things everyone brings to the table. Still, there was a commonality there that was very rare, and in many ways, deeply reassuring at times. That's the clincher that makes me sad.