A Letter to Rejjie Snow: It's Not Me Or You, It's Us

Dear Rejjie Snow,Do you remember when we first met? I kind of do? I think it was around 2015, I barely can recall what I was wearing. It was either shorts and boxers or just boxers. I was in bed, scrolling through a repulsive playlist fortified mainly by the YouTube channel “Majestic Casual,” a platform consisting of overly hyped tracks featuring classic rap verses as well as upcoming artists. I first met you there in that odd space. Your voice was the first thing that struck me. Words dripped from your tongue like a wine so fine that I wouldn’t know how to carry it to a friend’s house safely. You strung phrases together in a way which felt new and exciting, not to mention that everyone loves an accent. When I heard you were an Irish rapper my jaw dropped, I’d never heard a rapper from the green, orange, and white before. We spent a few weeks together, I would think of you in passing. After that, you never seemed to pop up on my screen anymore. I was too numb from artists like Drake who would drop new albums every two years, to appreciate an artist who would take five years after the release of their first EP to then drop their first full-blown album. Now here we are, talking again after you released Dear Annie.I don’t like the idea that you’re writing to other people, but Annie is a pretty cool name so she’s probably deserving. You came full force back into my life, for two weeks.Maybe it’s because I’ve changed, maybe it’s because I’ve been listening to pianos and trumpets more than voices, or maybe we were just never really meant to be. Not much has changed. Your voice still finesses smooth beats with a vindictive need for attention, but for me, sitting around talking about vices in a way which is aesthetically pleasing isn’t enough anymore. As you stated at the beginning of your love poem “23,” you’re “at home smoking weed all day, scratch marks on my escalade.” I won’t let myself be fooled again. I won’t be caressed by your whimsical appeal. Hearing you sing happily to someone else in “Désolé” was beautiful, but then you deconstructed this love into something darker towards a place of a relatable loneliness. This connection we formed over your words made me smile, but eventually, it felt a little one-sided. There often comes a time in every relationship where one party doesn’t feel heard, here it might have been both of us.Maybe it’s out of maturity but it’s probably out of jealousy, I can’t be around you as often. We can still be friends but I’m not going to look up to you in the same way. Reflecting on the time we spent together, one of the times I felt most inspired by you was during your performance of your playful anthem “Charlie Brown,” except it wasn’t really yours. It was made by an earlier Irish performer, the band Republic Of Loose, so really, I was in love with someone else. We’re always in love with someone else: someone else’s words, someone else’s face, someone else’s story, but right now I want to be in love with me. I truly appreciate your commitment and support towards your home, Irish patriotism has its need, but I didn’t hear enough about how you and I could grow during the time we spent together. I don’t know if things will ever be the same, but I really hope the best for you. I’d like to think that we’ll talk soon.Sincerely,A Fan