Tonight I’m tangled in my blanket of clouds.
Dreaming Aloud.
Things just wont do without you, matter of fact.
I’m on your back.
If you walk out on me, I’m walking after you.
Letting go of something is among the hardest (read: “heart”est) things one can do. Whether it is a possession, dream, hope, or love; we all make strong mental and emotional attachments to that which we desire. Giving up on or letting go of such desires cause a breakdown of the utmost importance. Learning to cope with these breakdowns is, in fact, one of the human race’s most profound accomplishments.
Some cope better than others. There are many different methods in dealing, and the success rates vary. There are those who futilely do their best to hang on to what they lost, and in turn, never truly let go. Others will convince themselves that what they had wasn’t important enough to mourn the loss of in the first place, while, others still, will begin to mourn their loss, and then too quickly find something new and shiny to placate their desire.
I am guilty of attempting all of these methods during my times of loss. The older I get, however, the more I realize that IT IS OKAY TO BE SAD AND HEARTBROKEN. Feeling a deep loss is part of our human experience. It allows us to reflect, learn and grow. It is perfectly fine for us to spend time mourning that which we have lost (or could never have), until we are ready to want something else. I fear that those who utilize the aforementioned ways of dealing, will not learn from their errors, and will be doomed to repeat them.
Another heart is cracked, in two, I’m on your back
These are my heart songs
They never feel wrong
And when I wake for goodness sake
These are the songs I keep singing
My strongest emotions are tied to music. Those whom I call friends already know this. Those that actually read this wandering, less than idealistic record of uninspired thoughts, may have also stumbled upon this truth.
Some say music can heal broken hearts, but it does not. Music can offer solace and be a much needed companion during the times that exist in between our moments of bliss. Music can also be our dance partner on the stage of euphoria.
The time line of my life is divided not by career, nor love interest (or subsequent heartache) but instead by pitch and key. Every day presses a different note, and strums a new chord. The beats vary, and rhythm ebbs and flows. The end of my existence will result in a symphony so very beautiful, flawed, pure and terrifying.
I hope to share my heart’s composition before it’s conclusion. I even pray that someone finds it worthy of adding their harmony to my melody.
Tell her what was wrong
I sometimes think to much
But say nothing at all
Sometimes it is not easy to say what needs to be said. Most of the time if the words are hard to find, it is probably for the best. This prevents me from needing to remove my foot from my mouth as frequently as I already do.
What about the times, however, when I need to express a sentiment, or a feeling to someone, and I just cannot gather the strength of will to do so? Maybe this too, is also for the best. Many have said, including myself, “What is the worst that could happen?” Well, in the predicament I am in, there is a plethora of that which could go wrong.
Tell her something in my mind
Freezes up from time to time