Patient Zero

Taylor Swift recently came out with an encore to her album, A Life of a Showgirl. The first song on the newly released edition is called Patient Zero. This song has spoken to me for many reasons...and also, hit a little too deep the first time I heard it.

From social media posts and to what became real-life interactions, I read and was told that many did not understand this song at all. They thought it was a far-reaching interpretation of a bad breakup song. That's not what I heard. My heart actually swells hard against my chest, to the point where I can feel it pushing against my bones, for the people who say this. I am happy for them. To not know, to not understand. What a world like that would be to live in.

Patient Zero is not a bad breakup song. I don't actually think it's a breakup song at all. It's one of the quietest, loudest songs about abuse I have ever heard. And fuck, isn't that what it's like when you're in it? The outside world doesn't really see. The depths of humans and relationships run so much deeper than the surface.

The lyrics hit me almost instantly in the first verse: "I've gotta be honest, I've been expecting your call." Those words hang with me in this moment, in the air right in front of me. It's a heavy series of letters that is hard for me to swallow.

A bit after my ex-spouse physically abused me, I reached out to the girlfriend she had before me. I sent a Facebook message, sheepishly and scared. I remember the first time we met in person. We picked a place we both didn't think our ex would be. She got there before me. I walked up to the door and, as I opened it, I remember it being too heavy in my hand. I opened it anyway. As the restaurant came into view, I saw a woman - sitting in a booth. I recognized her, not because we had met. I recognized her because we shared the same pain.  

I walked in slowly and approached her. She stood, each of us recognizing the other from photos posted online that falsely portrayed moments of happiness. We physically shook as our hands reached out. When they touched, I felt the pain I had seen walking in. I think she felt mine too. We both took a seat and started to talk.

Remembering these moments, the song now replays in my head: "I've gotta be honest, I've been expecting your call. No, it's not a bad time at all."

Through the months that followed that first meeting, I found safety, solace, and a friend in this person. She didn't just understand, she knew. Our shared trauma and experience wasn't something that needed to be spoken. After all, she was Patient Zero.

Being with Danielle can be a magical rush of overwhelming excitement and toxicity. As Taylor says, "When the toxins take their hold, you'd rather die than let it go." Somehow, even through the abuse and terrible treatment, it feels hard to lose them. Until one day, you literally have no choice but to let it go. 

"So, let's get into..."

Nothing about that relationship was actually about me. It was always about doing things that made her feel good. Sometimes that came off as being a good partner: buying me presents, creating a good online appearance. But it wasn't for me. It wasn't for Victoria. It was always for Danielle. To boost her own ego. 

The more I got to talk with this former partner, the more I began to put together the puzzle of the scattered pieces Danielle would accidentally let slip. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized we weren't the first at all. We were simply anonymous numbers among the fabricated version of reality Danielle was so eloquently able to create.

This song wasn't written to be understood by the masses. It was curated to touch those unfortunate enough to understand it. I've sat with these lyrics for a while now. The words above these ones have tried to describe the emotions the song elicits, but I know they do little justice.

To the "patients" before me, and god forbid, the patients after me, I am sorry. No one deserves to be brutalized for merely trying to love another human being.

"I've been there. Felt the reeling, done the healing, said the curses and prayers."

I think the point I am getting at is that we are not a number. No matter how many people our abuser has abused before or after. We're not a statistic. We're not a case number. We're not something that can be diminished into a file. And we sure as fucking hell are not crazy. Your truth matters, your voice matters and your story matters. 

Thank you Taylor for creating such a powerful piece of art. Thank you for putting into a words what so many woman feel, but do not know how to describe. Thank you for being a voice of empowerment. 

May we end the cycle. May we all rise up. May we all be loud. And may there never be another Patient Zero.