Just listen and remember that I love you. Only because I told you so.
– Jonatha Brooks, "Because I Told You So"

Sometimes I scare myself with my ranging, raging emotions. How I can go from being so low, so torn apart, to really okay. To fine, actually. To seeing the beauty in my life and loving it. Suddenly I realize that I can love the sunsets as much as the sunrises.

I love the pain that lets me know it was real. That lets me know that my heart isn’t permanently damaged. That lets me know that I can, in fact, let someone in and that it can be good. It can be real. It can be honest.

You left your mark on me. It’s permanent. A tattoo.
– Lucinda Williams, "Right in Time"

Every choice is a risk. Every secret shared is another little part of yourself you can’t have back. And suddenly I know that’s okay. I don’t need to get those pieces back.

Only those little instants count. Only those moments where you realize how lucky you are, and you convince yourself that you’re okay with only having those moments. But it’s hard to remember that afterwards, once they’re over. Once the instant is gone. Once you only have your empty bed and broken heart to remind you that it did, in fact, exist.

Could not ask for more than this time together. Could not ask for more than this time with you.
– Edwin McCain, "I Could Not Ask For More"

Maybe this is a cop-out. After all, they’re not my words, even if they are my feelings.

The tide turns and I learn to be just like you.
- Greta Gaines, "Just Like You"

And while it’s not a stunning statement, music is the language of life. Its power envelops you. It speaks to that low down part of you. That corner of your soul that doesn’t let anyone in. It’s echo-y and hollow and the strains of a well-worn chorus fade in.

Come pick me up. Take me out. Fuck me up. Steal my records. Screw all my friends. They’re all full of shit. Put a smile on my face, and then do it again. I wish you would.
– Ryan Adams, "Come Pick Me Up"

Music can express the words you can’t bring yourself to say. The emotions you can’t even begin to recognize that you have, lest they destroy you.

I envy the rain that falls on your face. That wets your eyelashes. That dampens your skin. That touches your skin. Soaks through your shirt. Drips down your back. I envy the rain.
– Lucinda Williams, "Envy the Wind"

But you can let the simple lyrics of another's suffering loll through your heart. Let someone else’s poignant moments fill you up and scream you out.

And I got no illusions about you. Guess what, I never did. When I said I’ll take it, I meant as is.
– Ani DiFranco, "As Is"

And it’s cheesy and full of seventh grade triteness. If I could fold this up and scrawl "pull" on the tab and pass it to you in Texas History, believe me, I would.

But I don’t really know how to make sense of much today. Except for the things that are real - the things that matter. They’re always right side up.

And really, this is all nonsense. It’s all just the prattle of a little girl who’s trying to keep something hers. It’s all meant to throw you off and make you wonder, because I’m not ready to share. Not ready to ever tell, probably.

All of the king’s horses and all of the king’s men couldn’t put my heart back together again. All of the physicians, mathematicians too, failed to stop my heart from breaking in two. Cause all I need is you. I just need you. You got the glue. So I’m gonna give my heart to you. Had a premonition, a movie in my mind, confirming my suspicions of what I would find. Follow me to L.A., down to Mexico, came in through the back door at the start of the show. Still, all I need is you. I just need you. Cause you’ve got the glue. So I’m gonna give my heart to you.
– Travis, "The Humpty Dumpty Love Song"

Maybe the lines I chose to clip out say something too. But maybe not, because it’s really every line that I want to rewrite. Every note I want to make my own.

I never asked to be so loved. But all I ever wanted was to make you laugh, make your mind twirl.
– Greta Gaines, Best of Me

Is this childish? Or perhaps it’s just the mark of a bad writer. I have to revert to quotes and snippets to express what I’m feeling right now. I have to, because I’m not good enough to untangle myself from my mind’s scribblings. Because I don’t have enough sense of myself to get it outside of me – to push it down, scratch it out.

The charade is over. . . . So kiss me hard, cause this will be the last time that I let you.
- Dashboard Confessional, "The Best Deception"

And it’s mostly all Lucinda. I’m sure that’s not a surprise. I’m sure it’s not a shock that I revert to her to tell you, to tell myself, what’s happening. It's not unusual that I look to her to tell me that what I’m feeling right now, while new to me, isn’t new at all. In fact, it’s the oldest thing in the world.

I want what we had. I know our love is gone, and I can’t bring it back. Still I long for your kiss. I know it’s over, because you told me so.
– Lucinda Williams, "Still I Long For Your Kiss"

But even if it is as old as time, it’s still not boring. It’s still not old hat. It’s still not easy.

Is this all?
– Jonatha Brooks, "Is This All"

 

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The notify thinks this entry should be hummed to the tune of "Faithfully."