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How do certain songs come on when you least expect it?

I'm driving home. It's that long, annoying drive. Long enough that you can enjoy a long stretch of highway in front of you for killing the pavement, but still, if you're a Torontonian, it's way too far out of the downtown core. I have to pay attention to signs. I have to be aware. Today, after the long meeting, I don't want to think. Yet it's also the drive that lends itself for listening to a lot of music. Many songs. Music that randomly fills your ears and makes you whisper, "awesome!" or "fuck."

Okay, so it's an eighties tune. Music that my sister lives for. Music that I'm very particular about. So why does Howard Jones' "No One Is To Blame" make me almost jerk the car forward to a crazy fast dead rolling stop on the Gardiner Expressway and yell my favourite four-letter obscenity?

"...doctor says you're cured but you still feel the pain..."

It's every damn line. Why is it making sense about so many things? Am I just tired from the 3am bedtime of last night? Am I drained from driving 25 minutes to sign my life over for a house and a mortgage I've acquired solely in my name?

"...you can build a mansion but you just can't live in it....."

I feel panicked. I am on the verge of tears, but for what? This is crazy. I am going crazy. It's another check-off on the longest to-do list made in history, but I'm not happy. Have I won? At what cost? It's now my house and mine alone. The attractive banker has asked me twice if I work. Doesn't he remember my "situation"? The real estate lawyer asks if I owe any money to the Ex-Husband. What am I giving him for our house? (Um.....my life?)

"...you can feel the punishment but you can't commit the sin...."

I think of the positive and the steps forward. I forgive myself for things I think I have majorly screwed up. I procrastinate, this I know, but I have fullfilled more things than I thought possible in two years of turmoil. I have gained friends, I have lost friends. I have stopped making the story my world, or at least tried to. I have put myself out there and I have won love and I have lost love. Sometimes I am happy with the amount of love I have in my life.

"...the insecurity is the thing that won't get lost..."

I am trying to be that person books are written to. The little girl lost who has found her way. The girl turned woman who has recaptured life. She will not come undone!

"...it's the last piece of the puzzle but you just can't make it fit..."

And finally I get home. I sit. I read. I write. I revise my tired looking to-do list.

"....no one ever is to blame..."