My ex-girlfriend from college Chloe and I got obsessed with Belle and Sebastian together. We were always listening to Boy with the Arab Strap, and after we went long distance we would write each other long emails about our lives apart, giving each other snippets of it, like how “Get Me Away from Here I’m Dying” perfectly described how she was feeling at least once a day. I listened to the records all the time, thinking of us, and suddenly songs I’d heard hundreds of times took on new meaning. I knew “Seymour Stein” was about the famous record executive, but it was also about loneliness, missing someone, and mentioned New York and Boston, so it suddenly felt like a song about us.

We broke up at the end of our senior year, but in our first year out of college, we kept visiting, kept sleeping over, and kept writing each other. I put everything into those letters. I made Chloe special Barbara Kruger-inspired stationery on my boss’s photocopier by putting an image with text overlaid in Futura Bold in the upper right-hand corner. When I wrote those letters to her, I thought they were the best things I had ever written and was thrilled that she was the sole audience for them. It felt like sharing a secret. In our letters and emails we kept talking about Belle and Sebastian.

I moved to Berkeley for law school in August of 2001 and was excited to immerse myself in a new music scene. There were so many legendary venues out here: 924 Gilman, the Fillmore, the Bottom of the Hill. I knew of the Warfield because I had a couple of bootlegs—Pavement, Liz Phair—that had been recorded there. I knew it drew good bands, so I made sure to the check the listings as soon as I moved.

This show had long been sold out, but someone on the Pavement mailing list said he had an extra, and I bought it from him for near double face value. They weren’t great seats, but I was desperate to go. It’s kind of weird to sit in the balcony right next to your ticket scalper, but there I was.

Despite all of that, I was still excited since I’d never seen Belle and Sebastian before. Sitting there, next to this guy that had just ripped me off, I wished that Chloe was sitting next to me instead. Preferably holding my hand. If it’s not obvious by now, I was the one that had gotten dumped.

In the middle of the set, they covered the Smiths’ “The Boy with the Thorn in His Side,” and since Chloe’s favorite band was the Smiths, it felt like kismet that I was there to experience it all. It was the universe’s way of telling me to get in touch with her and let her know.

I couldn’t help myself, and after the show, I went back to my apartment and emailed her what I had just seen. The obvious subtext of my email being: I miss you. Do you remember me? I’m the guy whose life is full of transcendent experiences.

Excerpted from Stubs: 2001-2010