Sad Songs And Other Time Portals

Three months after my best friend died, I sent a message to the musician Emma-Lee Moss. I don’t usually write fan mail to living artists, but whenever a beloved musician dies and I see the tributes streaming in I wonder, why did we wait? That was partly on my mind when I wrote to Moss, who performs under the name Emmy the Great. But mostly, I was trying to solve a mystery.

I've had a number of fixations since my friend died. I tried to complete all my unfinished crossword puzzles, as he had a few years ago, but a glitch in the app has me stuck at 99.1%. Every day for weeks I wore the t-shirts he tie-dyed. I listened to his playlists, which were full of songs that meant nothing to me but allowed me to feel closer to him. Talking Heads, Steely Dan, Blondie, Thievery Corporation. I got my first tattoo, of Bigfoot, because he loved Bigfoot. Whenever I needed to tell him something I sent an email to myself with his name in the subject line. I wrote things like, “I cut off a piece of my finger when trying to cook the bucatini. I think it’s fine,” and “Remember when we went to Borders and you bought a Jamiroquai CD, and I thought you were so cool and weird?” and “I’m afraid if I’m in the same room as your ashes I might try to eat them.”