Chapter 4; 6 am…

Chapter 4; 6 am…

"This is morning"…I'm pretty sure one of your favourite songs starts like that. I don't remember the name of it, or how the melody really goes, just those few words, and they strike me as my alarm goes off. A hum in the back of my brain, an annoying little buzz, beating over and over against the inside of my scull, driving me insane because the next line is gone but oh so god damn beautiful. If you were here, you would have sung it for me, the whole song in a quiet mumble voice, barely audible but still there for me to hear. But you're not here… you're gone.

The sun's already up outside my window peeking behind my blinds, and I know that a new day has come. What happened tonight can no longer be erased; it's part of history now. I haven't slept at all, didn't feel like there was a need to, no use to fight at all, you've decided. It's time now for me to get myself back together, time to start over, to wipe away tears and fake smiles. Yeah, I've have been dumped by my best friend and lover, but that's something that happens to people every day, so why should I be an exception? And why shouldn't I be able to get myself trough it?I can do this, I've been alone before. I don't need to need the way you do… the crackling sound of shattering walls, the fear of breaking down, walking the line when it is too thin. (I never liked the edge the way you did)

Again I feel tears press on, it hurts so much, too fucking much. I think about you and the way I miss waking up with your breath tickling my neck and a too thin arm loosely wrapped around me. That's how it should be, it shouldn't be like this. This is wrong, this isn't how it's supposed to be, this isn't the way we were supposed to end up. Frustration takes over and I shut my eyes. Suddenly the world alone is reality and I'm a child again. It was such a long time ago I felt its claws grasping after me, and now when it's back I'm too weak to fight it off. It brings shudders down my back and I pull the blanket tighter around me. The walls creep a little bit closer and I realise I have to get a hold of myself; I'm acting like you when angst has you captured.

I bite my lower lip so hard I taste blood; it's bitter and awakening. I hate the taste and I hate the way it looks, I hate it because of you. You made me see too much of it and the sick thing is, I know I'll miss it to death now when you've taken it away, taken those never healing wounds from me. I snap myself out of my daze and my tangled sheets. Stumbling across my wooden floor I don't feel like me. I feel broken and confused. You said so little last night, then again you always claimed that people talk-talk-talk their lives away. But still— "…I like him, I really do… and I'm sorry…" just doesn't do it for me. You said the words so soft, your eyes never meeting mine, transfixed by the pavement, you killed me, or well the only part I liked of me, the one who was with you. And you knew it, you knew it, you knew it, you knew exactly what you did. Anger has me again, and I look around for things to break. What the hell happened to you singing along to Brand New, telling me you're the only broken-hearted loser I'll ever need?

Yes, we were younger, stupid and probably a tad bit drunk, but still those times were honest, they were golden and I guess now when they've become memories they'll shine just a little more. They'll become extra special and they'll grow until they'll make me burst, and I'll find myself on your doorstep, asking "Hi, is … home?" in a too cheery voice, smiling a too bright smile (everyday me). And when you finally get to the door, you'll take one single look at me, and reply to my hi in a dead monotone with "it's over". I won't be able to trace a single emotion in your voice, and you'll hide your eyes from me like you always do. And then you'll slam the door, but I'll still be smiling, I'll still be proud, I'll still be that only broken-hearted loser you'll ever need…

Isn't it pathetic the way I refuse to give up, the way I still make believe? Am I supposed to find another one now, someone else to tell my secrets to, and kiss all night long? The thought of you sharing our bench with him suddenly strikes me, and for a short while I can't breath. You wouldn't do that; you wouldn't take that away too, would you?

Throwing on my clothes, old and used many times before (but it didn't really matter because you liked me anyway) I rush back out the door, leaving the apartment cold once more. My parents still aren't home; they work night and day to keep us alive, they work to keep the pain away.

The city hasn't yet awakened but the empty streets don't scare me, I've been living on them all my life. I know the asphalt like if it was my own pocket and it doesn't take long to reach the place we met on last night, the place where everything started and the place where everything ended. "This is the finish line, we've come along way together," you told me, "I owe you so much, but…" then you said that about liking him, about moving on, and the ever so clichéd, we could still be friends. I spat at that, friends, we can't be friends when I still love you so much. You flinched visibly at those words, and the evil, hurt part of me enjoyed you getting hurt too.

I sit down, regretting I didn't bring a thicker sweater. There are goosebumps on my arms, the wind tangles my hair and I keep on hearing parts from your favourite songs all the time, as though they're taunting me, teasing me to remember all those sweet times. A few words here and there and I know I'll never be able to listen to them again, because they somehow were my favourites too, and now you've taken them away, made them only yours.

I'm half expecting you to come here soon, for you to know the way I feel, and to sooth away all the bad things (like the way I always wanted you too). The hours pass, my life passes, cars pass, people pass… everything passes by and I watch it silently. Watching how people refuse to even give me a single glance. I'm ignored in a grey concrete world with tears streaming down my face, with a broken heart and a torn up soul, with blue lips and cold fingertips. Shaking, freezing, hating, breathing, wanting, needing, loving, craving, thinking, blinking, living, and maybe just nearly dying. I really, really, really need you, but you won't come, not now, not ever, you've moved on …and I just sit here (waiting), cutting stupid words into our bench (me), silent pleas of please, please, please… love me again…

Always Love

Always Love…

…always love?

"To make a mountain of your life

Is just a choice

But I never learned enough

To listen to the voice that told me

Always love

Hate will get you every time

Always love

Don't wait till the finish line

Slow demands come round

Squeeze the air and keep the rest out

It helps to write it down

Even when you then cross it out

Always Love

Hate will get you every time

Always Love

Even when you wanna fight

Self-directed lives

I wanna know what it'd be like to

Aim so high above

Any card that get dealt, you

Always Love

Hate will get you every time

Always Love

Hate will get you

I've been held back by something, yeah

You said to me quietly on the stairs,

I've been held back by something, yeah

You said to me quietly on the stairs.

You said

Hey, you could once.

Hey, you could once.

To make a mountain of your life

Is just a choice

But I never learned enough

To listen to the voice that told me

Always love

Hate will get you every time

Always love

Hate will get you

I've been held back by something, yeah

You said to me quietly on the stairs,

I've been held back by something, yeah

You said to me quietly on the stairs

You said

Hey, you could once

Hey, you could once

Hey, you could once

I…"

Always Love – Nada Surf

Mixed Tape – Jacks Mannequin