Dear Adele,
Just to start off, I’m a big fan. I absolutely love your music, really. I mean, the melodies, the lyrics, and of
course your powerful vocals, just the whole deal. Love your music.
And while I like lots of different pop music, I truly feel
you transcend the genre. Yours is not
merely ‘pop’ music, the sort that will be popular for a few years and then be
relegated to novelty, as years from now we listen and say “wow, that’s so
2012!”
No, your music belongs to that relatively small group of
music that never truly ages. True
classics never lose their lustre, and the musical qualities that made them
great when they were new continue to move audiences decades later. I feel your music fits that description.
Moreover, it has been said that truly great music seems to
speak directly to the audience. Powerful
songs can make us feel like the singer is singing specifically to us; speaking
directly to us from one person to another.
And that is what I feel when I hear your music.
And that is why I am writing this letter. I’ve been listening to your music, and I feel
that you are singing to me. And the more
I listen, the more I feel that I am your audience, that I am the person for whom these songs
were written. And that compels me to
write this letter to you, because I feel I need to tell you something.
I am sooooooo sorry.
I don’t remember our relationship very well, but it is clear
that what we had, whenever it was that we had it, meant a great deal to
you. I can’t recall how it all began,
but now I see that how it ended was all my fault, and I feel just terrible
about it.
I’m pretty sure I never meant to hurt you, even though my
memories of the details of our relationship are fuzzy (nonexistent, really,)
and I am deeply ashamed, not just for my poor treatment of you, but for having
forgotten all of it so easily.
You are right; we could indeed have had it all, indeed we
should have, if only I had been as committed to the relationship as you
were. I was callous and careless with
your feelings, and I just couldn’t see how I was hurting you, or how hard you
were working to keep us together.
What we had was wonderful, as near as I can piece together,
and burned with a passion intense enough to separate water into flammable
hydrogen and oxygen, apparently. I know
this from seeing how hard you took our breakup, as though gauging the intensity
of light by the sharpness of the shadows it casts.
And though it pains me to talk about the break-up, we both
know it was my fault. My heart strayed
from you, and I betrayed your trust. I
remain wracked with guilt for my transgression, even though I am still a little
in the dark on the specifics.
I found love in the arms of another woman (I’m assuming my
wife, but again, the timetable is a little unclear,) never realizing just what
I had with you. I abandoned you, treated
you like garbage, and left you out in the cold.
It was wrong of me, and I honestly can not imagine why I did such
terrible things to you.
I can offer you no excuse for my behavior, since I can’t
remember why I did any of it in the first place.
It is touching how happy you are for me now, and I must
admit that my life is pretty great these days.
I also appreciate your decision not to intrude upon my family life by
showing up unannounced; that was awfully decent of you.
I know it's over, and that we can never have back what we
had. I hope you also can move on and
find happiness. Once again, I’m just so
very, very sorry for all the grief and pain I’ve caused you, and for how angry
it has made you.
I really have no excuse.
You would think I would have learned after what happened with Alanis
Morissette back in 1995.
Sincerely,
A Fan.
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