I've read that one shouldn't kiss someone with music in the background, because one day you'll sway in a different arm in a new coffee shop and that song will come on. The taste of salty caramel frappé will start to taste like them and as much as you hate to admit, the smell of new cologne in your shirt every morning wouldn't please you any more.
The other day when you're in the car driving home, after seventeen long hours of work, tuning the radio, that song will come on. The miles would become longer and even the exuberant sunset wouldn't be engaging any more. Suddenly the glee and glam, the spirit and spur of the moment will transform into a pensive polaroid.
When you're in the bed reaching the climax of your current favourite book and it's only a few pages away, that song will come on. Every bar between reality and fiction will be blurred and all you'd want to read any more would be the wrinkles on their forehead when they tried to find you in the art gallery where you met for the first time.