Wired

Begin Again (2013 Movie)

They say there are five love languages: words of affirmation, quality time, physical touch, acts of service, and receiving gifts. I say there are six.

The rawest and deepest form of love comes gift-wrapped in music. A person’s heart and soul poured into the grooves of a vinyl, or hidden in the click of a Walkman, expressing everything they mean to say but can’t find the right words for. To me, the greatest form of intimacy is sharing headphones. The vulnerability of sharing a song that holds emotions so vast that they are almost incomprehensible is love. My red string of fate, then, is not, in fact, a red string, but the wires of a pair of headphones.

Begin Again (2013) was first introduced to me through one of its songs, “Coming Up Roses,” when my brother made me a playlist in 2020 of songs he loved when he was my age. Begin Again is a film written and directed by John Carney, led by Keira Knightley and Mark Ruffalo. Through discovering an entirely different perspective of her music, Greta, who was broken down and built back up again by music, finds healing, and one of the purest and most overlooked types of love: platonic love. One quotation in particular has stuck with me since my latest rewatch: “If we ever stop talking, and you don’t know how to come back, send me a song.” A single song, enough to declare love, desire, and reconnection. Music, so valuable and so transcendent that it replaces words, and brings two people back together. 

I cherish that playlist and this movie with all my heart. My brother is one of my best friends, and even with the miles of distance, we are wired not only by blood but by music as well. I like to think he meant to say, “I love you. I’ve been through this too. This age, and the change that comes with it, will too pass.” in song. 

The plot of Before Sunrise (1995) seems simple enough: two people meet on a train, get off together, and fall in love. What makes this film special to me is the meaning behind it: emotional intimacy from idle conversation brings humans closer than sexual intimacy does. One of my favorite scenes from the film, a shared opinion amongst fans of the film, is the record store scene. Celine and Jesse pick out a Kath Bloom record for the listening booth, and as “Come Here” starts playing, they steal glances at each other, never catching the other at the right moment but constantly feeling each other’s gazes when they look away. Though no words are said, nor physical touch is initiated, the lyrics that fill the room and the stolen glances are enough to make the silent yearning known. 

You might be sitting in your room, reading what I’ve written, and thinking that I’m reading too much into this. But music is a part of my soul. It’s been with me since my first breath. My mother raised me on music, instruments, and melodies that are heavy with the weight of all the words we’re too guarded by inhibition to say. For every childhood memory of mine, there is a song to go with it. It would take me a lifetime to put the love I have for music and all it can represent into words. Music wires me to my mother, my brother, and everyone I have ever loved. It has seeped into the cracks between my bones and occupied the spaces between my fingers like no other. You might not feel the same way as I do right now, and still, I might not have convinced you, but I hope that one day, you’ll be able to weave your way into this tapestry of music and step back to see its beauty.