This doesn't really mean anything nowadays, but this song was a part of the first album I bought with my own money from my first job. I always heard my mom, and other adult people in my life talk about the first DVD they bought, the first cassette they bought, the first PlayStation game they bought, etc. And how they associated certain feelings and memories with said firsts.
The way they talked about these firsts reminded me of how I thought my first kiss or my first time would be like. Since I really couldn't control the timing of either of those, needing another human and being an awkward teenager and all, I knew I was able to control my first album. And I decided it was going to be special. I wanted to support an artist or artists I believed in and loved whole-heartedly. I didn't want my first album to be a random pop artist who I'd forget about 10, 20 years later and only remember when they came on the “Oldies” station. I wanted it to be an artist that meant something to me, or at least their music meant something to me. So that's what I did.
I actually remember waiting for it to come out and then buying it as soon as my paycheck hit that week. It feels surreal to think about it now, years later.
After it finished downloading on my phone, I remember taking a long deep breath. I needed to prepare myself for possible disappointment before I hit play. I laid down on my bed closed my eyes. Having run out of weird spur-of-the-moment rituals to complete, I hit play. I heard the opening notes to “And That, Too” on my three-dollar earbuds, and I don't think I've ever experienced anything so achingly perfect in my life since then.