Country songs are never good for me.
They fire up my heart, put a longing in my belly. For what, I’m not sure. All I know is that they remind me of you and you and you.
One for the sweet boy that swept me off my feet. Another for that other boy who broke my heart into a million tiny pieces. A third for that boy who lied and lied and lied. And one final one for that bitch who stole my man.
It sure ain’t my mama’s broken heart.
Powder your nose, paint your toes
Line your lips and keep ‘em closed
Cross your legs, dot your I’s
And never let ‘em see you cry
carhartt clothing, the colour yellow, despicable me, work boots, the smell of freshly cut grass, my pearl necklace, cheesecake, sunrises, country music, sundresses, the beach, warm nights, michael buble, memphis: the musical, love notes, playing violin, random flowers, american eagle, bridal shows, cameras, warm sand under my feet, my brown coach purse, arnold palmers, mineral water with freshly squeezed lemon juice.
together, such a assortment of meaningless things to others, make up one big nostalgic trip back to what used to be, what could have been, and what isn’t anymore.
here we stand almost a year and a half since I last saw your face. I can hardly remember your voice. I do remember fragments, of what your pitch truly is. Your face clear as day, as the pictures that I’ve seen recall the memories of
you us to the front of my brain.
my longing for you once again, isn’t romantic. my heart isn’t tugging, my body doesn’t call for you, my hands can’t feel your warm rhythmic pulse anymore.
yet I still want those memories again.
we’re older, and so much time has passed. yet, it’s still obvious that I miss us. not you. just all the perks that came with the company that you provided.
I just wish that these meaningless things to others, would also be meaningless things to me.
Forgetting you was easy. Not seeing you in everything is hard.
I don’t comprehend how you can break me so easily. The mere thought of you not being here made me cry like you actually did die. I’m so unstable when it comes to us. One day, I’m fine, I can go on, knowing you don’t love me. Other days, I just wanna curl in a ball and cry, hoping that it’ll change your mind. It bothers me how much of a grip you have on my soul. The more you don’t want me, the more I want you. The more you kiss me, the deeper I fall. The more you tell me you love me, the less I believe you.
It doesn’t suffice anymore. My eyes are dry and my soul has shriveled up.
It’s kinda sad that the more I think of it, the more I want to write a song that describes what I feel.
It would have mixed meters, crazy rhythms, and just tangents.
Nothing makes sense anymore. The only solace I have is your best friend. He’s my shoulder, he’s my sleeve. He’s the only one I trust anymore, these days.
Today, was the fights of fights. I feel like what I say, no longer matters to you.
Nothing I do scratches the surface. Nothing I do is worth anything.
Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess, my old lover.
13 February 2012
I wish you’d tell me the whole truth, about everything. I wish you’d feel the same way as I do. I wish I could call you my valentine, hold your hand when I please and just love you openly. I wish you understood how I feel, I wish you’d see the cryptic messages my body gives off naturally when you’re around.