I have a confession to make. I suppose this confession of mine wouldn't be a guilty one if I were living in Alabama, but I'm not. So here it is: I like country music. There is just something about it. An intangible factor, if you will, that makes me happy. It could be the twang of the guitar or the dulcet crooning of the singer, but country music speaks to my heart. I want an old blue chair or a tractor (if it will make me sexy). Nothing about love makes sense. Everything gets hotter when the sun goes down.
Walking home today, She's in Love with a Boy by Trisha Yearwood came on my iPod. I had the urge to jump, to dance, to sing. I guess I didn't look that "normal" frolicing down the sidewalk because I was on the receiving end of more than one weird look, but I don't really care. Country music makes me happy.
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