Harry and I have been together a little over eight years now. And with that time comes love, devotion and - of course - a song that has to be designated as "our song."
About three years into our loving relationship (maybe more, maybe less - I dunno - we're going on a decade here, folks!) I looked at Harry and pouted as I'm apt to do when I want something (dessert, sex, dessert sex, or, ya know, a pony) and said "I'm sad."
"What is it, my darling? What do you want and what can I do for you, my utterly wonderful princess-pants?" is what he SHOULD HAVE SAID, but instead muttered, sweetly, "Oh dear lord, what now?"
"We don't have a song. That's sad. Here," I said and reached for the knob on the instrument panel. "The next song that comes on will be our song. Forever." I smiled and clapped my hands like a trained seal.
"This is our song?" he said, doubtfully as the music filled the cab of whatever vehicle we had at that time (I can't keep up - we've had more than Jay Leno at any given time).
I tilted my head, squinted my eyes and hummed along like a Maestro at a concert hall. "Yes. Yes, this is perfect."
"So... Marilyn Manson's 'Tainted Love' is our song?"
"Yes, darling. Isn't it romantic?" I trilled.
But I was only fooling myself - we'd had a song way before that. And my bestest bud since I was a mere toddler found a new version of it - it's BEAUTIFUL! I mean, it's no "Tainted Love" but it's still prolific, ya know?