My Thoughts

Our days are numbered. Even now, the end of our long, happy run is getting nearer and nearer, and before too long it’ll be within the reach of our naked eyes. We have no idea of what waits for us on the paths we now walk, but we can tell that they are growing increasingly distant and separated. So here we are, holding each other tight, waiting for the end that some are eager for and some are dreading, but all know is inevitable. The lives of our past are shattered, and only bits and pieces remains, fragmented memories that can never reconstruct the experience of living the real thing. What will become of us all, I wonder? Where are we going, and why can’t we go there together?

I am clutching my memories like a frightened child clutches his blanket; but unlike the child, I do not fear what will come when I finally lose it, I just don’t want to lose it. I feel the changes of adulthood, ominous and imminent as a thundercloud, bearing straight for our small town. I’m so afraid to change. I’m so afraid to lose what I already have. But it isn’t supposed to be this way…I should be excited. Nostalgia is natural to an extent, but not to the point of rooting myself immobile, chained forever to shallow adolescence. I just have so much more to do, things I should have done already. These things should be drawing my excitement towards my future, but instead they’re still in the past.

And now I am almost out of time. So box me up, like a jigsaw puzzle without all the pieces, and ship my unwilling self into a future long foreseen but never quite expected.

I wish I could take away your pain-

But maybe I can’t

I wish I could take away the hatred -

But maybe I can’t

I wish I could make you happy -

But maybe I can’t

I wish I could make everything simpler -

But maybe I can’t

I wish I could make you smile -

But maybe I can’t

Maybe I can’t do anything, no matter how badly I want to. But if nothing else, I promise, I will always be there for you.

Last night was so amazing. It would have been perfect if I just had someone to share it with…

I miss you, Ani. I miss you so much. I know I should just move on, but it’s hard. You make me so happy, even still. And I guess I make you happy, too - you’ve gone out of your way to talk to me twice already this week. But what should I do? How I should act and how I want to act are no longer the same course of action. But maybe there’s no harm in talking with you again; we both make each other happy, so if we behave ourselves, it should be fine…right, babe? But could we behave ourselves, and yet still keep our relationship the same as it was? I wonder.

I know what I want. If it was just a matter of me possibly getting hurt again, I wouldn’t care, but I would never want you to get hurt again, hun. But you seem like you want this, too. You told me that you’re “just a girl”, but you’re so much more than that to me. Do you know you’re unlike any other? I love you, Ani, even if I shouldn’t. And if I’m going to get hurt again, so be it. So baby, bring on the pain, and listen to the thunder.

I.

She wrote me today

And it warmed my heart so much

To hear from my love

II.

Thank you for writing

I guess you still think of me

I think of you too

III.

Should we be talking?

I want to but I don’t know

What do you think, babe?

IV.

I got her letter

But are things that much better?

Either way, I’m glad

The waves crash into the rocky mountainside, each one bursting into a misty breeze that tenderly brushes against the boy’s face in his safe spot atop the cliff. The salty air is refreshing to him, and the water is just so soothing. Truly, the boy feels like he can open up here, in this calm atmosphere, and finally grasp the thoughts that he fears to consider elsewhere. This place is the connection between his worlds, where the ocean meets the mountains. It is the link between past and present, desire and responsibility. And so the boy sits here in his sanctuary, lost in thought. What a peaceful place this is, this haven by the sea.

The boy thinks of former friendship and love that he is losing, or has already lost. His life is shattering, and all he can do is try and hold the pieces together as long as he can. But no matter how hard he tries, they still slip through his fingers, one by one.And he has lost a vital piece already: her. He waits patiently, but no matter how much he waits, no matter how eagerly he hopes, he still doesn’t hear her voice. All he wants is to hear her beautiful voice again, but there is nothing but the only noises he detects are the soft echoes of the waves below. What a quiet place this is, this haven by the sea.

The boy sighs as he looks around him. He still doesn’t see her. He doesn’t see anyone. He is all alone, left to himself in solitude. He wishes he could talk to her, especially, but now he wishes he could talk to anyone, really. He has one or two people that he can really be completely open with, and they are nowhere to be seen. He wishes they were here; not that he has anything in particular that he needs to talk about, anyways, but he just wants someone to hold him and tell him they love him. The boy really wishes he felt more loved. But still, no one is around to love him. What a lonely place this is, this haven by the sea…

The man walks into the forceful wind, trying to shield his face from the gusts of snow barraging him. He grimaces as the icy wind pummels him, branding his cheeks with the pain of the stinging cold. He struggles as he tries to keep his hood up, for he needs all the protection he can get against this frozen gale. Determined, he pushes onward, slowly walking further. He anxiously longs to be home already; for the wind to be locked outside, and to feel the warmth of the fireplace soothing and rejuvenating him.

He rounds a corner and looks up, expecting to see his home as he normally can from there, but on this dark night, he can still see nothing but the howling blizzard in front of him. Frustrated, he continues walking. His pace slackens as fatigue takes its toll on the man’s weary legs. His face has gone numb and all he can think of is the crippling cold. He walks on, drowning in thoughts of freezing to death here in this miserable snowstorm.

Finally, the man reaches his front door. With red, shaking hands, he raises a frosted key to the door and unlocks it, then stumbles inside. The house is empty, as it always is. He sets his coat on the coat hook and the noise he makes seems to echo throughout the halls. He sighs a long, lonely sigh, etched with the pain of losing someone dear. He looks at her pictures again, smiling out of the mere nostalgia of memories of her, but aching with the sheer pain of having lost her.

The man finally goes to bed and climbs under the covers for warmth. But his heart is not there with him; it once again wanders to thoughts of that woman, his love. He loved her, and she loved him, but the two are now separated, and the loneliness eats at him, devouring his happiness. And as he lays there, alone in his bed again, he almost thinks that he’d rather be out in the blistering cold still.

This is an excerpt from another song from Ryan Adams, called “Go Easy”. These words sum up how I feel better than anything I could have ever written.

If only to say this to you now
I love you still and I always will
If only to say this to myself
I will always love you
I will always love you