One of my favorite songs is “Graceland Too” by Phoebe Bridgers, and it’s important to me because of one specific moment.
That day, I met up with my friend at the beach. The sun had already begun to set. It was October in Southern California, so the day was hot, but the night was chilly. I found my friend sitting in a cave-like area of the beach, Kindle in hand.
We talked about how we used to back when we lived together, sharing all our thoughts on pop culture events. It was nice, sitting next to each other like this. I’d felt distant after moving to a different county. We were never going to regain those old days of living together, and I struggled to accept it.
As sunset turned to dusk and the sky went dark, “Graceland Too” by Phoebe Bridgers began playing. The first few seconds of the song played, but my friend skipped it, banjo chords and soft violin strings vanishing into the night. We later talked about how we couldn’t listen to Bridgers’ music anymore, as it made us feel even more miserable when we were already in a bad headspace. Sometimes turning off sad music helps your emotional stability.
I spent days wondering if that’s why my friend skipped “Graceland Too.” The track is one of Bridgers’ more touching songs. There’s nothing more tender than the love that two friends share. But whenever the song plays, the moment when my friend skipped the song comes to the forefront of my mind. It was a delicate, intimate few seconds, but they’re forever burned into my memory.
The night after this friend moved away, I returned to the same spot at the beach. I had already missed the sunset, and so the same stars that we gazed at together shone in the dark sky. I allowed everything to set in before I truly began processing her absence. But finally, I opened Spotify and pressed “play” on “Graceland Too.” As Bridgers sang, my tears began to build, and once the song ended, I sobbed. For the next half-hour, I cried and cried as I looped the song.
When you first meet someone, you never know how important they’ll be in your life. I’ve overestimated how important some people would be to me, and I’ve greatly underestimated how impactful others would be. In the first couple of years of knowing each other, this friend and I weren’t close, but now, I can’t imagine how I would’ve survived college without her.
“Graceland Too” is about the precious love that the narrator has for a friend who’s survived severe mental illness. Similarly, I struggled deeply in college and often had a hard time opening up to others. But thanks to my friends — and this friend in particular — I got by.
Referencing her friend, Bridgers sings, “I would do anything for you,” which reminds me of how I’d do anything to repay my friend for being there for me. Without her support, I wouldn’t be here today, and I wish she knew how much she means to me.
We may not have done any MDMA that night, but we stared at the moon, and I knew that because of her, I lived through it to get to that moment. Most of the time, “Graceland Too” is a “skip” for me because when I hear the song, I feel sick to my stomach. Some nights, though, when I sip the same wine that we used to share and wear the sweater that my friend got for my birthday, I let the song play over and over and over again.
I struggle with being open and honest with my friends. I’m quick to believe that I’ll scare them away, or that I’m “too much” for them. The fear of unrequited platonic love haunts me, preventing me from telling my friends that I love and miss them. I’m a bit of a coward when it comes to expressing my feelings. But it’s never too late to tell your friends how you feel. So take this as a sign to send that meaningful text you’ve been holding off on. Hold your friends close because you never know where life will take you.
Featured Photo by Dominic Sansotta on Unsplash.
