I once saw someone on a YouTube comment section calling Pattie Boyd the Helen of rock ‘n roll. Well, kinda justified. Layla, the reason behind the short-lived riff between George Harrison and Eric Clapton, I repeat short-lived. They were best friends for some reason.  Also, if I’m not wrong, George didn’t give a shit.

Thousands of women in the 70’s were losing their sanity over this. Burning in the eternal flame of envy, acting like Wattapad girls from the early 2010s, they wondered how lucky she was that she had not one, two greatest love songs ever written about her.

Yet later on, both of these men who wrote these treated her like I don’t know what to call it, inconvenience? Maybe. As soon as they realized now they ‘have’ her, they lost interest right away, she was not their muse anymore.

George tossed the Helen to the side until he realized someone else wanted to have her too. I guess Eric just wanted to have what George had. That’s what drove him insane. Once he had that, all of his longings ceased to exist. 

It’s more like they were in love with the idea of being in love with her, none of them could love the actual person. They both were quite narcissistic towards the woman they claimed to love so much.

‘Something’ and ‘Layla’ are two beautiful love letters. I would be lying if I said I didn’t shed a tear or two so many times listening to them. Why, simply because no one will ever write something like that for me. I guess I never came out of that teenage fantasy of mine. Once what seemed so sweet to me, now thinking about it for like five minutes straight, gives chills in my bones. What if what happened to Pattie happens to me as well? Am I even ready for this kind of heartache? This whole thing also makes me think how funny this is. One moment you want the devotion she got, the next moment you fear the negligence she received.

Do we ever get to know what’s going inside the other person’s head? Ever? I don’t think so. We often think we do, but you know, it doesn’t really happen. People always change, for good or worse. If things turn out in our favor, yay. And if things turn out bad, all we can hope is that it just delays a little bit more. After all, hope keeps us alive (yea also kills I don’t need reminders).

The bottom line for me, even if someone writes love songs about you all day long, it certainly doesn’t mean they will love you better. As much as people like me love words, they don’t mean shit if the actions are not on the same page. Also, I have to listen to music keeping them aside from the artist’s personal history, can’t ruin any more of my favorite songs thinking about the origins and aftermaths. Also, I’m laughing internally plus coughing loudly (health issues, excuse me) because I feel so much wiser right now even though I will act like I didn’t learn anything from Miss Pattie the very next morning.