Last week Dolly shared her soundtrack of our relationship. As she promised, here is her Misfit’s list of songs that tell our story. Even though it was hard for him to choose because he hears her in every song, these are the ones that kept floating to the top.
It’s Valentine’s Day. They say love is in the air, love is all around.
Even here, inside this toybox on the Island of Misfit Toys, we’ve found love in what many call a hopeless place. Steel bars don’t stop it. Distance doesn’t stop it. It just learns a different language. Most times it hums through a phone line. Sometimes (not often enough for Dolly) it travels folded in paper. But the best times are when it waits at a visiting room table and when you walk towards it your heart forgets where it is.
Our love didn’t arrive clean. It didn’t come easy. It showed up in tension. In sharp words and sharper truths. In jealousy that meant something mattered.
We were not young in years, but we were reckless enough to act that way.
Somehow, against logic and circumstance, we became a beautiful thing together.
And like every love story, ours has a soundtrack.
- Speechless (Dan + Shay)
This song takes me back to the very first time I laid eyes on her, even though she was only supposed to be a pen pal and nothing more. One image, that’s all it took. I was not looking for romance, was not inviting entanglement, and still I was undone. From that first photo on, whether she was flirting on purpose or just being herself, I couldn’t stop looking and wanting more… Be it the same smile, the same face, a familiar pose—it never wears out. It only deepens. Seeing her in videos sharpened that hunger. Seeing her for the first time in the flesh, and every time since, I’m lost in excitement. Even now, when she finally stands before me, real and undeniable, I’m left exactly where this song lives—overwhelmed, wanting more, silent.
- Discovery (Kailee Morgue)
I put a digital bottle out into the darkness, not knowing who would answer. Dolly answered when she was still Amish-like, tightly folded, careful in how much of herself she allowed to show. At first glance, I felt it in my core that she was the one I had been waiting for. As she allowed herself to be seen, something in me opened, an untouched part of myself never given to anyone. She didn’t just answer the call. She revealed what had been waiting in me all along. There is no mistaking it—she was my discovery.
- Bathwater (No Doubt)
When we first started pen-palling, her Dolly side was just waking up to parts of herself she had never allowed room to exist. After decades of living life in her own box, she was realizing she was desired not only in her fantasy world, but in reality. Although she knew I had a fiancé, and other men at this time were trying to captivate her, she also had other options, safer ones, easier ones. She chose me, without guarantees, without protection, without pretending it was fair. Being near my life, watching it from the edge of my banquet table, was thrilling enough to sustain her in her box. It was a gift she gave herself. The irony is how far she’s come. She’s now the queen and centerpiece of my table. We laugh at her refusing to drink my bathwater (should we ever have a bathtub), but now she shares a toothbrush with me, and that tells you everything one needs to know… - Sing Your Life (Morrissey)
This song was my way of encouraging her to reclaim her real self. Dolly had learned to shrink, to soften her edges, to apologize for taking up space. Like living quietly was some kind of kindness to others. I did not want that for her. I wanted her to own her life and the people she loves without permission. This song is not defiance for the sake of noise—it’s about choosing to live out loud instead of disappearing politely. I sent it to her as a reminder. Your life is yours. Sing it.
- Sucker (The Big Moon)
I was a sucker for her, and I still am. This song reminds me of nights when the world was split in two, me in my bunk, her in her bed, texting through the dark while everything between us quietly grew roots. We both knew the distance, the complications, the thorns that would come with choosing each other. It kept getting colder. It kept getting darker. We asked the honest question, do we nip this in the bud, or do we accept what it costs to grow something real? And somehow, against every voice that told us to stop, we chose each other anyway, knowing exactly what it would cost. And still, I wouldn’t change my mind. I didn’t expect her to become my greatest friend.
- Come What May (Nicole Kidman & Ewan McGregor)
I remember the moment clearly. I was sitting on the concrete floor beneath the wall phone, the receiver pressed to my ear, the prison world loud around me. I had made up my mind to stop riding the fence. With no more hesitation I told her I was done standing halfway in, that if we were going to do this, I was all in. Come what may. While I spoke, I wasn’t seeing concrete and cinderblock. I sat next to her on the bed holding her hand and told her I am choosing her without any escape clauses. At this stage in our lives, with history behind us and consequences in front of us, loving each other meant surrendering comfort. It meant risk. It meant closing other doors. I told her I was giving her all of me. She didn’t flinch and returned the same dedication. In that moment of truth, sitting on concrete, I was the happiest prisoner alive. The rest ever since has been adding to our soundtrack.
- Just The Way You Are (Bruno Mars)
Dolly didn’t see herself the way I did back then. She thought she was plain, unworthy, an ugly duckling. Even talking to a man like me in prison, she felt unsure of herself, as if she were the one reaching above her station. This song was my way of telling her the truth. I didn’t see broken or lacking. I saw Mary Poppins with mystery behind composure, warmth under control, capable and quietly magical. I saw an artsy, cool chick who had no idea how much power she carried. I used this song to remind her that what she thought were flaws were what made her unmistakable to me.
- Trouble Me (10,000 Maniacs)
This was the first song I sent her. Up until our deeper sharing, I thought mostly she had everything handled, a Mrs. Brady, that she was on top of her world, living the dream life full of love and support. But that was far from the truth of it. The more we talked, the more I could hear the weight she was carrying alone. One night, something in me, be it God’s hand or something else, knew to send her this song telling her more than my words could at the time. Not to fix her, not to impress her, just to say you don’t have to hold it all together by yourself. That I’m here for you. You don’t have to carry it alone, my back is strong. I didn’t understand how much she needed to hear that until I saw in her reply expressing how deeply it landed. That’s when I really understood how much she was surviving. Somehow even before we were anything to each other more than friends, she trusted me with her troubles.
John Legend’s “All of Me” is more than just a wedding song.
But when I say I love all of her, I don’t mean I love the version that behaves or matches the song. I mean the sharp mouth. The stubborn streak. The hunger. The defiance. The parts that would rather fight than fade. The brat.
And when she says she loves all of me, that includes my history. My ego. My damage. My anger. My childhood traumas. My tyrannical caveman ways. The man I was. The man I am still becoming.
“All of Me” isn’t sentimental in our world. It’s literal.
Because loving someone entirely means you don’t curate them for comfort. You don’t edit out the inconvenient verses. You don’t pretend the darker notes were never played.
The songs that follow aren’t pretty. They’re the B side of our lives.
If you want to know what all really sounds like, it sounds like this:
Oh, and here are the pretty songs.
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