Marriage Confessions

Goodbye, Kenny Chesney. Goodbye.

Dear Kenny Chesney,

First, let me open the conversation by saying that I love you.  Our relationship over the years has been so important to me, and I wouldn’t give anything for the memories we’ve shared.

We had some crazy times in college together.  Friday nights at Ken’s Bar on Tennessee Street at Florida State, playing darts, drinking beer, and singing about Mexico.  And I can’t even count all the Spring Breaks we spent together on some beach somewhere, frozen drinks in hand.  Remember dancing on the bar in Ybor City and watching in hysterical surprise as an *unnamed friend* made out with a complete stranger on the dance floor?  Then there was that crazy Halloween where Meathead Neal dressed up as Carmen Miranda and we followed him around all night picking up pieces of fruit from his headpiece.  And what about that Spring Break that I got stuck working through!  All my friends went to Key West and you stayed with me in my tiny basement office, singing about tiki bars and sunshine.

And then when I graduated and got married.  I even managed to sneak in some time with you on my honeymoon on that beach in Saint Maartin.  The best strawberry daiquis of my life.  And when moved to Connecticut, our relationship deepened even further.  We spent hours together in gridlock traffic, you singing to me about the beaches and sunsets of my childhood.  Oh, Kenny.  You filled that void I had when I moved to Connecticut.  When I left Florida, I had such a hole in my heart for the beach.  But what did I need of real sand and real sunshine when I had you crooning to me in snowing weather?  You turned the frozen sidewalks of New England into frozen pina colodas of the Carribean, and I loved you even more.

But, Kenny, our relationship is changing.  Its not you, its me.  I just can’t spend hours listening to you anymore.  And I know what you’re thinking.  It must be your new album.  But its not.  Things were changing long before the new album.  Its just that I need more.  I need more than a guitar and tiki bar and a whole lot of love.  I need a change.  I’ll be honest with you.  I’m sort of seeing someone else.  Its Holiday Music and its going pretty good so far.  We’re still in the beginning stages, and I certainly can’t tolerate him for hours like I used to spend with you.  And I seriously doubt I’ll ever dance on a bar or beach with him.  But he’s relaxing, soulful, uplifting, and good for me.  Like most rebounds, I don’t see this lasting long – maybe another month at best.  But he’s shown me that there’s more out there for my listening pleasure.

But now, I must say farewell to you Kenny Chesney.  Not goodbye, for I don’t think I could live with that.  But farewell for now.  Perhaps on some rainy Connecticut Sunday I’ll find you again and I’ll know that wherever you are it’s 5:00.  You’ll always have my heart, Kenny.  But, at least for now, Holiday Music has my ears.

All my love,

Katie

4 Comments

  • nigel

    Don’t worry, Kenny won’t be too hurt.

    As for Ybor City though, it’s a bit sketchy. It’s one of the many things that I don’t miss about going to school in Florida.

  • Sara

    oh Katie. I was forwarded to this Kenny Chesney post after commenting on todays debacle with JM. Im dying right now. I LOVE Kenny. Ive been blessed to be able to see him in concert TWICE in the last few months. Once in MN and then 2 weeks ago in Lambeau Field. It was the most amazing thing ever. I came home from that show (Zac Brown gets a bit of my heart as well) anyway, came home from that show sad. ? Sad because I missed Kenny. Like I was losing a friend. I felt like I was crazy and yet, still sad. Its passed a bit since then but when he comes on the radio I swoon. And seeing him perform “There goes my life” with 50,000 people singing along with him. Tears. Crocodile style. Almost as much as the first time I heard “I can only imagine”. (switching stations there but I know you know the song)

    Anyway. thanks for opening yourself up.

    I was told once the we as people can be in the room with 100 people. 99 of them will tell you that your awesomeness is up there with white bread. 1 person will say “I mean I think your cool and all but white bread?”

    Its that person we focus on. And its that persons comment that hurts.

    Focus on the 99. For you its actually like 99,999,999,999. ok?

    Now go listen to the sexy tractor song.

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