How music makes me

Summer 1942. It was the summer that had changed my life, and it included the thing that i cherish in my life most. Music. Despite this sounding rather strange, music was, and still to this day, not just a sound to me. Neither is it a way of being acceptable to dance around in the middle of a shop when i hear my favourite song. It is as if music flows through my whole body. Starting from my toes and wriggling it's way up as if it were a worm. It is my one chance to just let all my emotions out at once and allow my feet to tap to the beat and start to shake my hips in time with the rhythm. Who needs anything else except for the passion of jazz as the saxophonist slowly changes the tempo of his latest improvisation, or the guitarist who swiftly places delicate fingers on the next fret and something new is then created. I thought music could never be compared with anything else until that day. Music was separate, it could never be associated with something as common as human emotion. Oh how i was so wrong. How would i know that on that day, my mind would suddenly be changed like the transformation of a few lines from a verse into a new song. The day that i met my future husband.