# "Spotify Made Me a Playlist I Never Asked For. It Knew Things It Shouldn’t" Creepypasta

An episode of [CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio](https://invisiblenetwork.ai/podcast/1492008134), 18 May 2025, 26 min.

Audio: https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/66142623/spotify_made_me_a_playlist_i_never_asked_for_it_knew_things_it_shouldn_t_creepypasta.mp3

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by goosejpg: / spotify-128869225 Creepypastas are the campfire tales of the internet. Horror stories spread through Reddit r/nosleep, forums and blogs, rather than word of mouth. Whether you believe these scary stories to be true or not is left to your own discretion and imagination. LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO- SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd... iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast... SUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS- ►"Good Places to Start"- • "I wasn't careful enough on the deep ... ►"Personal Favourites"- • "I sold my soul for a used dishwasher... ►"Written by me"- • "I've been Blind my Whole Life" Creep... ►"Long Stories"- • Long Stories FOLLOW ME ON- ►Twitter: / creeps_mcpasta ►Instagram: / creepsmcpasta ►Twitch: / creepsmcpasta ►Facebook: / creepsmcpasta CREEPYPASTA MUSIC/ SFX- ►http://bit.ly/Audionic ♪ ►http://bit.ly/Myuusic ♪ ►http://bit.ly/incompt ♪ ►http://bit.ly/EpidemicM ♪ This creepypasta is for entertainment purposes only

## Transcript

[0:02] Speaker 1: I hadn't dated anyone in five years. After Emily, it
[0:07] Speaker 1: stopped making sense. People tried my sister, especially even co
[0:14] Speaker 1: workers I barely talked to, invited me to things, always
[0:18] Speaker 1: with a luck that hovered somewhere between pity and optimism.
[0:22] Speaker 1: Most of it ended the same way, someone asking if
[0:26] Speaker 1: I thought about therapy or maybe trying again. I appreciated it,
[0:33] Speaker 1: I really did, but it felt rushed, like everyone was
[0:37] Speaker 1: trying to get me to move forward before I had
[0:39] Speaker 1: time to pick my feet up. There wasn't anything obviously wrong.
[0:46] Speaker 1: I went to work, replied the text eventually, and even
[0:49] Speaker 1: smiled when I was expected to. But with people, I
[0:54] Speaker 1: kept things at a distance. I couldn't let anything real
[0:58] Speaker 1: in without feeling something would break open. Most days I
[1:05] Speaker 1: told myself I was tired. That was easier than admitting
[1:09] Speaker 1: I didn't know what to do with the space she
[1:12] Speaker 1: left behind. New people felt like stand ins for something
[1:16] Speaker 1: I couldn't recreate, and the idea of trying again made
[1:20] Speaker 1: me feel dishonest, like pretending a wound had closed when
[1:25] Speaker 1: I could still feel it every time I turned my
[1:27] Speaker 1: head the wrong way. For the first few months, I
[1:32] Speaker 1: used to stop and talk to her same turn off
[1:36] Speaker 1: just past the tree line, a quiet spot with a
[1:39] Speaker 1: bit of sun in the mornings. I'd bring coffee sometimes
[1:43] Speaker 1: and sit in the grass with her, pulling out a
[1:46] Speaker 1: handful of blades to play with. I tell her about work,
[1:51] Speaker 1: about my sister's latest attempt to set me up, and
[1:54] Speaker 1: how awkward it felt. Anything to fill the silence. There
[2:00] Speaker 1: was no version where Emily and I worked anymore. I
[2:04] Speaker 1: knew that, but I kept showing up in the mornings
[2:08] Speaker 1: every other day or so before work, like clockwork. It
[2:13] Speaker 1: was selfish, but pretending we were still together. It was nice.
[2:21] Speaker 1: Eventually I stopped meeting up with her as often. My
[2:25] Speaker 1: therapist said that meant I was starting to move on,
[2:28] Speaker 1: and it was a good sign. I didn't feel the
[2:31] Speaker 1: need to talk every day. I didn't argue, but some mornings,
[2:37] Speaker 1: on the drive to work, I'd catch a glimpse of
[2:39] Speaker 1: her on that stretch of road and instinctively ease off
[2:43] Speaker 1: the gas, just slowed down enough to see her. Then
[2:50] Speaker 1: I met Claire. We were both invited by mutual friends
[2:56] Speaker 1: to a backyard barbecue in late spring. I was leaning
[3:00] Speaker 1: against the fence with my phone in hand, pretending to
[3:03] Speaker 1: check something when she walked over and asked if I
[3:06] Speaker 1: always looked that board or if tonight was special. I
[3:10] Speaker 1: told her I was trying to figure out the exact
[3:13] Speaker 1: minute it'd be socially acceptable to leave. It was meant
[3:17] Speaker 1: as a joke, but it was also true, and something
[3:22] Speaker 1: about that made her let out a snort, laugh, sharp
[3:26] Speaker 1: and unexpected, like she hadn't meant to let her escape.
[3:31] Speaker 1: I remember thinking that laugh was the first honest sound
[3:34] Speaker 1: I'd heard in forever. We spent the rest of the
[3:38] Speaker 1: night orbiting around the usual small talk without ever landing
[3:42] Speaker 1: in it. We ranked fast food fries, debated the worst
[3:46] Speaker 1: gas station snack, and traded the craziest things we'd overheard
[3:50] Speaker 1: in public. When it got too cold, she handed me
[3:55] Speaker 1: a number and told me to call her when I
[3:57] Speaker 1: was ready. Said I would, and I did. It started
[4:06] Speaker 1: slow coffee, which turned into a couple of drinks, and
[4:10] Speaker 1: walks had turned longer than we meant them to nothing forced.
[4:16] Speaker 1: Being around her felt easy in a way I didn't expect.
[4:20] Speaker 1: By the third month, I caught myself doing things without thinking,
[4:25] Speaker 1: reaching for her hand, leaning in close to say something
[4:28] Speaker 1: dumb just to make a laugh. I wasn't floating anymore.
[4:34] Speaker 1: I was there. Claire never asked for context. She just
[4:39] Speaker 1: left space for me to figure it out on my own.
[4:44] Speaker 1: I think she knew I was still mentally sorting through
[4:47] Speaker 1: things I didn't tell her about Emily. I wasn't ready.
[4:53] Speaker 1: It didn't feel right to bring up old relationships when
[4:56] Speaker 1: something new was just starting to feel stable. And even
[5:00] Speaker 1: if I had, I wouldn't have known where to begin.
[5:06] Speaker 1: Not long after, I moved, not just to get closer
[5:11] Speaker 1: to Claire, though there was part of it. The job
[5:15] Speaker 1: was better, a quieter place, better pace, less noise between
[5:20] Speaker 1: the hours. But if I'm honest, I think I just
[5:25] Speaker 1: needed something that felt different, somewhere new, to wake up
[5:30] Speaker 1: somewhere she hadn't been. Claire helped with the boxes. She
[5:36] Speaker 1: unpacked the kitchen, while I stood in the living room,
[5:39] Speaker 1: hands on my hips, staring at a blank wall, like
[5:43] Speaker 1: it might tell me something about the version of myself
[5:46] Speaker 1: that was supposed to live here. At some point, she
[5:50] Speaker 1: called out from the other room, hey's this yours. I
[5:57] Speaker 1: walked into the hallway and found her kneeling by an
[6:00] Speaker 1: open box holding a photo album I hadn't seen in years.
[6:05] Speaker 1: The cover was worn soft, the edges. She opened it
[6:09] Speaker 1: without waiting, flipped through a few pages. Is this your
[6:14] Speaker 1: awkward phase? She joked, holding a photo of me and
[6:19] Speaker 1: maybe twenty I smiled kind of something like that. Then
[6:28] Speaker 1: she turned the page. There was a picture of me
[6:32] Speaker 1: and Emily, one I didn't remember packing. Claire didn't say
[6:37] Speaker 1: anything for a beat too long. Her eyes skimmed the page,
[6:41] Speaker 1: then flicked up to mine. I knew what she was
[6:45] Speaker 1: going to ask before she did, but instead she closed
[6:51] Speaker 1: the album gently and set it aside. So I'm guessing
[6:56] Speaker 1: she's not your cousin, she said, half a mild tugging
[7:00] Speaker 1: at the corner of her mouth. I didn't say anything.
[7:05] Speaker 1: I didn't need to. Whatever reaction crossed my face must
[7:10] Speaker 1: have told her enough. Claire smile faded just slightly. You
[7:17] Speaker 1: want tea or coffee? That was it. No pressure or push,
[7:25] Speaker 1: just the soft pivot back to the kitchen. She understood
[7:30] Speaker 1: that she brushed up against something and decided to leave
[7:33] Speaker 1: it alone until I was ready. I liked that she
[7:38] Speaker 1: didn't push the playlist. Showed up the morning after she
[7:45] Speaker 1: stayed over. We were both running late. She took the
[7:50] Speaker 1: first hour while I stood in the kitchen, half dressed,
[7:54] Speaker 1: scrolling through my phone while the kettle heated. It was
[7:58] Speaker 1: there at the top of my homepage, a new playlist
[8:05] Speaker 1: you remember us right. At first, I thought it was
[8:12] Speaker 1: one of those autogenerated nostalgia things. Spotify does things like
[8:17] Speaker 1: that sometimes, But there was no thumbnail, just a collage
[8:21] Speaker 1: of art albums I didn't recognize. I hit play. The
[8:27] Speaker 1: first track was quiet, with soft vocals and slow guitar.
[8:32] Speaker 1: Nothing I could name, but the melody felt like something
[8:35] Speaker 1: I'd heard once in the background of a coffee shop.
[8:39] Speaker 1: I let it play while I ground the beans and
[8:41] Speaker 1: filled the press. Then the second song started. I was
[8:48] Speaker 1: leaning on the counter when it hit me. It wasn't
[8:53] Speaker 1: just familiar. It was hers Emily's, one of the ones
[9:00] Speaker 1: I used to hum without realizing, tapping a foot against
[9:03] Speaker 1: the dash. I hadn't heard it in years. For the
[9:08] Speaker 1: second it played, I could feel it in my chest,
[9:12] Speaker 1: sharp and too sudden. I reached from my phone from
[9:17] Speaker 1: halfway to skipping. Claire walked into the kitchen just then,
[9:22] Speaker 1: towel wrapped around her hair, damp and clinging to her neck.
[9:27] Speaker 1: Oh I love this one, she said. She brushed past
[9:31] Speaker 1: me and nudged my hand away like it was nothing.
[9:34] Speaker 1: Go shower. You gonna be late, I hesitated. Then I
[9:40] Speaker 1: handed her the mug, took my phone with me, and
[9:43] Speaker 1: set it on the bathroom sink. I stepped in and
[9:47] Speaker 1: let the hot water hit my shoulders, but something about
[9:51] Speaker 1: the song stuck behind my ribs. That second one was hers.
[9:59] Speaker 1: Then the third track started, and that was it, the
[10:05] Speaker 1: song Emily and I joked about getting married to. I
[10:10] Speaker 1: pressed my back to the tile and slid down until
[10:13] Speaker 1: I was sitting on the shower floor. The water was
[10:16] Speaker 1: too hot, but I couldn't move. That third song pulled
[10:21] Speaker 1: something up I kept buried so deep I'd started to
[10:25] Speaker 1: believe it wasn't there anymore. My chest tightened until it
[10:29] Speaker 1: hurt to breathe, and I just sat there, knees pulled
[10:33] Speaker 1: in while the water ran over my face like it
[10:36] Speaker 1: might wash something out of me. I let it happen.
[10:41] Speaker 1: I let it break through, slowly and quietly, until I
[10:45] Speaker 1: managed to pull all the pieces of me back together.
[10:50] Speaker 1: When I finally stepped out, I checked the playlist with
[10:53] Speaker 1: a kind of quiet dread. It had been created that morning,
[10:59] Speaker 1: which was impossible. Sure, Emily and I used the shere
[11:03] Speaker 1: a Spotify account, but that was years ago. Now, seeing
[11:08] Speaker 1: her name tied to something new, still pulled at something,
[11:13] Speaker 1: and for a second I caught myself wondering if she
[11:17] Speaker 1: knew about Claire. Once I realized what I was asking,
[11:23] Speaker 1: I let out a low, tired laugh. Not because it
[11:27] Speaker 1: was funny, It was just one of those reactions who
[11:30] Speaker 1: can't control when something hid in the wrong way. It
[11:35] Speaker 1: settled in my chest and dragged up guilt, and it stung.
[11:42] Speaker 1: I'd moved on, and I hadn't seen her in a
[11:44] Speaker 1: long time, and even though I kept telling myself I
[11:47] Speaker 1: had my reasons and that it was healthy, they didn't
[11:51] Speaker 1: feel like enough anymore. I don't know what shifted, but
[11:57] Speaker 1: suddenly it felt like I owed her something, thing that
[12:01] Speaker 1: I betrayed her. For the first time in a while,
[12:06] Speaker 1: I felt like I needed to see her again, not
[12:10] Speaker 1: just remember her, not just scroll through old photos or
[12:14] Speaker 1: let a song cut me from the inside. I needed
[12:17] Speaker 1: to be there. I dressed quickly, my heart still thudding.
[12:24] Speaker 1: When I stepped out, the house smelled like fresh coffee
[12:27] Speaker 1: and clear shampoo. She was by the door, boots half on.
[12:34] Speaker 1: You good, she asked, yeah, I said, just tired. She
[12:42] Speaker 1: reached out and fixed the piece of hair near my temple.
[12:46] Speaker 1: You're always tired. I'm working on it. She handed me
[12:52] Speaker 1: a travel mug, kissed my cheek, and left before I
[12:56] Speaker 1: had to explain anything. Things were just starting with Claire.
[13:01] Speaker 1: I didn't want to ruin that. I didn't want to
[13:04] Speaker 1: pulling away, but I had already made up my mind.
[13:11] Speaker 1: I called in sick and left before I could talk
[13:14] Speaker 1: myself out of it. The playlist started on its own
[13:20] Speaker 1: as I backed out of the driveway. I didn't touch it,
[13:25] Speaker 1: just let it play. If I wasn't sure before I
[13:29] Speaker 1: was sure. Now windows cracked, The road stretched ahead like
[13:34] Speaker 1: something waiting. The day felt too quiet for what was
[13:39] Speaker 1: happening in my head. The town was only an hour away,
[13:44] Speaker 1: mostly highway, then that familiar stretch of two lane road
[13:48] Speaker 1: that curved through old hills in open fields. It had
[13:53] Speaker 1: been a while, but I knew the way. I didn't
[13:57] Speaker 1: need a map. About half way there, a slow song
[14:03] Speaker 1: faded in, barely audible at first. I didn't recognize it
[14:08] Speaker 1: right away, not until memory came in hard behind it.
[14:13] Speaker 1: It was the one that played the night we danced
[14:15] Speaker 1: in the kitchen after a mom's funeral. We hadn't eaten
[14:20] Speaker 1: and we were both wrecked. But the song had been
[14:23] Speaker 1: on in the background, and she pulled me close without
[14:27] Speaker 1: saying anything. Resting ahead in my chest like it was
[14:30] Speaker 1: the only place that made sense, I gripped the wheel tighter.
[14:36] Speaker 1: My throat burned. I blinked hard and didn't look away
[14:40] Speaker 1: from the road. A few miles later, the music shifted.
[14:48] Speaker 1: Don't Break My Heart. It played once, then again. The
[14:55] Speaker 1: line kept looping, break, Break, Break, glitching and distorting. It
[15:03] Speaker 1: echoed like the car itself had picked it up and
[15:06] Speaker 1: was repeating it back to me. The hair on my
[15:09] Speaker 1: arm stood up. I looked up just in time to
[15:14] Speaker 1: see the semi drift into my lane. I hit the
[15:18] Speaker 1: brakes as fast as I could. Tires screamed, and the
[15:22] Speaker 1: world jolted. Everything inside the car slammed forward. The truck
[15:28] Speaker 1: missed me by inches. I sat there on the shoulder,
[15:34] Speaker 1: hands white knuckled on the wheel. My heart pounded in
[15:38] Speaker 1: my throat. The music had stopped because of the song.
[15:47] Speaker 1: I was safe, but I didn't know if that should
[15:51] Speaker 1: comfort me or scare me. My mind hurt thinking about it.
[15:57] Speaker 1: There was no doubt in my mind that this playlist
[15:59] Speaker 1: was set up by Emily. She was somehow in control
[16:03] Speaker 1: of my phone. In a way I didn't know was possible,
[16:06] Speaker 1: but this was something more. How did she do that?
[16:14] Speaker 1: The rest of the drive passed in silence. The playlist
[16:17] Speaker 1: was still open on the screen, but nothing played. Even
[16:22] Speaker 1: when I tried booting up another playlist, no sound came out.
[16:27] Speaker 1: It felt like I was now somehow getting the silent treatment,
[16:30] Speaker 1: something Emily used to do with a few times I
[16:33] Speaker 1: upset her. I reached town around the early afternoon. Everything
[16:39] Speaker 1: was where it had always been, the crack sidewalks, the
[16:43] Speaker 1: houses we'd pointed out to each other, the corner that
[16:46] Speaker 1: we used to wait on after school, trading dumb jokes
[16:49] Speaker 1: and stories that no one else would care about. And
[16:54] Speaker 1: I hesitated Before when I reached this point on the trip,
[17:00] Speaker 1: my heart would race with the thoughts of seeing Emily,
[17:03] Speaker 1: an unhealthy obsession turned compulsion. But for the first time,
[17:09] Speaker 1: there was a second thought that cross wired my brain,
[17:14] Speaker 1: thoughts of Claire. This only started after she stayed the
[17:18] Speaker 1: night at mine. Emily's intentions were clear. Was I ready
[17:24] Speaker 1: to just walk into them? I made a decision with
[17:30] Speaker 1: a deep breath. I turned the wheel, ready to exit
[17:35] Speaker 1: the town and leave Emily behind once and for all.
[17:40] Speaker 1: But it seemed Emily wasn't done with me. The song
[17:44] Speaker 1: that came through my car speakers crackled with pops. It
[17:48] Speaker 1: was so loud, borderline distorted with volume. I didn't even
[17:53] Speaker 1: know my beat up car could get this loud. Nothing
[17:57] Speaker 1: I did would soothe them. My phone screen was unresponsive.
[18:01] Speaker 1: The volume dolls span with no change. I wanted to
[18:05] Speaker 1: fight it, but I knew I couldn't. She had a
[18:09] Speaker 1: hold over the situation that was beyond my understanding, and
[18:14] Speaker 1: deep down she knew she didn't even have to push
[18:18] Speaker 1: this hard. My brain screened at me to run, but
[18:23] Speaker 1: my heart wanted to see this through, and all logic
[18:27] Speaker 1: was being thrown out the window. I parked where the
[18:32] Speaker 1: neighborhood thinned out. Trees were taller here older. I followed
[18:38] Speaker 1: the same stone path. I didn't have to wonder where
[18:42] Speaker 1: she was, didn't have to call to arrange a meeting spot.
[18:47] Speaker 1: She was always in the same place. Then I saw her.
[18:55] Speaker 1: I stood in front of her for what felt like
[18:57] Speaker 1: two long hands in my park. Its mouth too tried
[19:01] Speaker 1: to say anything that wouldn't sound stupid. I kept waiting
[19:06] Speaker 1: for the silence to break on its own, hoping the
[19:09] Speaker 1: guilt would settle into something I could carry again. Sorry,
[19:14] Speaker 1: I haven't been around, I said. Finally. It felt strange
[19:22] Speaker 1: talking to a grave after this long, but once I started,
[19:27] Speaker 1: I couldn't stop. I told her. I tried to move on,
[19:33] Speaker 1: that it had taken longer than I wanted to admit
[19:36] Speaker 1: that even now I wasn't sure i'd done it right.
[19:41] Speaker 1: I said a name a few times, just to feel
[19:43] Speaker 1: the weight of it again, but it felt foreign. My
[19:48] Speaker 1: nose stung and my eyes burned a bit. Down hard
[19:52] Speaker 1: just to hold myself together. And then I told her
[19:57] Speaker 1: about Claire. He probably already knew, but I gave it
[20:02] Speaker 1: to a straight, a formal introduction. It felt right to
[20:07] Speaker 1: say it out loud. You probably wouldn't love the idea,
[20:13] Speaker 1: but Claire makes me happy, and I need that. I
[20:17] Speaker 1: need something real, I said. But it hasn't stopped me
[20:22] Speaker 1: caring about you. It never could. But holding on the
[20:26] Speaker 1: way I had it started to feel more like a
[20:29] Speaker 1: weight than a memory, I added. I know you're upset,
[20:34] Speaker 1: I said, and maybe this won't help, but I hope
[20:38] Speaker 1: it at least makes sense. I miss you, I always will.
[20:44] Speaker 1: I was broken without you, but I'm finally getting better.
[20:52] Speaker 1: Just as the words left my mouth. I started to
[20:56] Speaker 1: hear something. It's been so low without you here, like
[21:02] Speaker 1: a bird without song. It was a song coming from
[21:06] Speaker 1: my phone. I didn't start it. I hadn't touched anything.
[21:12] Speaker 1: The voice was unmistakable, sneid O'Connor. The track was nothing
[21:18] Speaker 1: compares to you. Emily used to play it when she
[21:21] Speaker 1: thought I wasn't listening, humming along under a breath in
[21:25] Speaker 1: the kitchen while she moved between cabinets like the whole
[21:28] Speaker 1: house belonged to the rhythm. Nothing can stop these lonely
[21:34] Speaker 1: tears from falling. Tell me, baby, where did I go wrong?
[21:41] Speaker 1: I tried wiping my face, but it didn't do anything.
[21:45] Speaker 1: I thought. I cried it all out in the shower
[21:47] Speaker 1: that morning, but the tears didn't slow. They kept coming,
[21:53] Speaker 1: slow and hot. No, No, it wasn't you. I just
[21:59] Speaker 1: thought staying away helping. Everyone kept saying I needed space,
[22:03] Speaker 1: that moving on meant not looking back too much. I
[22:07] Speaker 1: rubbed at my eyes. But I should have come sooner.
[22:11] Speaker 1: I should have done this my way. I thought I
[22:14] Speaker 1: was healing, but really I was just avoiding you. The
[22:21] Speaker 1: chorus played again, quieter now, just the voice and the
[22:26] Speaker 1: wind and everything. I hadn't said in a long time. Look,
[22:32] Speaker 1: I'll visit more, I said, not just when I'm falling apart,
[22:37] Speaker 1: not just when I miss you. I'll give you updates
[22:40] Speaker 1: on my life, even the boring parts. I let out
[22:45] Speaker 1: a sob chuckle at that. But please, you have to
[22:49] Speaker 1: let me live my life. Okay. The song ended and
[22:57] Speaker 1: the playlist didn't load another. I stayed for a while longer,
[23:03] Speaker 1: watching shadows shift across the stone while I waited for
[23:07] Speaker 1: the tears to stop falling. A strange feeling of peace
[23:11] Speaker 1: washed over me, and eventually I stood and walked back
[23:16] Speaker 1: to the car. The sky had gone pale. I didn't
[23:21] Speaker 1: know if anything I said had mattered, but it felt
[23:24] Speaker 1: like something had let go. The drive home was quiet,
[23:31] Speaker 1: the playlist never started again. I left my phone silent
[23:35] Speaker 1: in case it ever did come back on. Part of
[23:39] Speaker 1: me wanted to hear from Emily again. Little flashes of
[23:43] Speaker 1: her kept cutting through her laugh, the way she held
[23:46] Speaker 1: a mug with both hands when she was tired, how
[23:49] Speaker 1: she used to steal the covers and pretend she didn't notice.
[23:54] Speaker 1: She hadn't been trying to break claar of me up.
[23:58] Speaker 1: She was just lonely. When I got back. I taketed Clare,
[24:06] Speaker 1: just the simple I'm home. I didn't trust myself to
[24:10] Speaker 1: say more than that. She called a few minutes later.
[24:15] Speaker 1: Her voice was soft and steady. She didn't know anything
[24:20] Speaker 1: was wrong, but something bubbled deep inside me. But I
[24:26] Speaker 1: told her anyway. I sat on the edge of my
[24:30] Speaker 1: bed and said everything I've been holding in, about the playlist,
[24:35] Speaker 1: the drive, the songs I hadn't heard in years, about Emily,
[24:41] Speaker 1: about how long it had taken to feel remotely normal again,
[24:45] Speaker 1: and how even now I wasn't sure what that meant.
[24:50] Speaker 1: I told her what she meant to me, that I
[24:52] Speaker 1: didn't know if I was doing this right or if
[24:55] Speaker 1: I ever would, and that I love her. Claire didn't interrupt,
[25:02] Speaker 1: and when I finished, I felt lighter for the first
[25:08] Speaker 1: time in years. I felt understood, like some one else
[25:12] Speaker 1: had seen the whole mess of it, what I'd lost
[25:15] Speaker 1: and still carried, and she didn't flinch. She welcomed me.
[25:22] Speaker 1: I could breathe again, because I wasn't holding that weight alone.

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