|Domenica Feti, Melancholy|
And it’s dark in your room
When I sneak to your bed
And pour salt in your wounds.
So call it quits, or get a grip
You say you wanted a solution;
You just wanted to be missed.”
~ Brand New
So the drama continues, as it always does, and my best efforts at healing broken rifts are perpetually met with resistance. One of these days I’ll just give up. In the mean time, I wrote another song, posted in the last entry. Let me know what you think about it.
Eventually I will learn from my mistakes and stop repeating the same sad cycles.
I’ve lost a lot of friends over the years, some who were closer than others. Some I still miss terribly. Some I couldn’t care less that they’re no longer a part of my life. The ones that hurt the most are the ones I could have kept, if I’d tried harder, or if I’d been a better friend. I’m slowly repairing the damage with one group. The damage was born of drifting apart slowly last semester, and now with 48 days left, it feels important to fix those relationships and get them right. I love them too much to let things end badly. It seems to be working.
If only I could get through to Stargazer.
And then there are the friends who were somehow both more and less than friends at the same time, the ones who become songs, the ones whose faces become hidden in paintings years after they’re gone.
The anthem for the day: Brand New, “The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot.” Some of the lyrics express what’s racing through my own veins; some seem to express what might be said about me. Either way, melancholy galore. Enjoy.