It's Just Writing

To tell you the truth,
I’ve been crying every night.
I’ve been pretending to be strong,
But when the night falls I show my insecurities,
My fear of being alone,
My fear of failing,
My fear of fading.
 
To tell you the truth,
I’m mortified of leaving.
Leaving everything I know,
Leaving the place I come from,
The people I love,
The family that has seen me grow,
The friends that have showed me laughter,
The lovers who have given me a taste of companionship.
Leaving the room I’ve written so often in,
The bed I’ve cried in so many times,
The window I’ve hoped to escape through for so long.
 
To tell you the truth,
There’s a bittersweet taste left in my mouth.
For I’m gaining an opportunity,
I’ve been granted a wish,
I’ve seen my work pay off,
And I can walk towards my dream freely.
But I am leaving behind where this dream started,
The people who supported it,
The people who watched it gain momentum.
 
To tell you the truth,
I’ve been crying every night.
Because I’m scared of parting.
I’m scared of the night time once I’m eight hours away.
I’m scared of the lonely.
I’m scared of being forgotten.
I’m scared of not living up to the expectation that has been built of me.
 
To tell you the truth,
I’ve been crying every night.
But we lie.
We don’t tell the truth, we lie.
We lie so we don’t seem weak.
We lie so we don’t worry others.
We lie so it won’t hurt as bad,
And we can pretend we’re fine, even if it’s just for a while.
We lie so we can maintain the image other’s have of us.
We lie so we can survive another day.
We lie so we can allow our Fears to come out and lie beside us in our beds,
Without worry of them sticking around in the morning.
 
To tell you the truth,
I’m writing this on my bathroom floor.
Where I’ve locked myself in for the past hour,
Crying, holding up my knees to my chest, trying to keep my sobs quiet and silent.
Fears, Insecurities, and Doubts holding my hand, wiping my tears, patting my back.
And in a few minutes I’ll get up and walk towards my bed,
And I’ll lie down and rest my head in my pillow,
And they’ll be right there next to me,
Singing me lullabies until I’m off into a safe sleep.
And in the morning they’ll have gone.
 
But if I’m going to tell you the truth,
You should know this,
They never leave.
They hide in the back of my head,
Whispering soft reminders that they’re there,
Until I open the door and they come out again,
To roam around freely and help me pack up my life.
And to tell you the truth,
Every picture they put in my suitcase,
Every sweatshirt that is folded and thrown in,
Every book that is stuffed into another bag,
I take out and hide.
So I can linger a little longer,
Look around for another minute or too,
Let the image of this room sink into my brain,
Allowing it to soak up every detail of my childhood.
 
To tell you the truth,
Time is passing by faster than I had hoped.
The days seem shorter with each one that passes.
I seem more grown up than I feel.
And we’ve been crying every night.

Every year I’ll remember the day we met.
The day you so swiftly wondered in so casually.
Every year I’ll remember your birthday.
And that will spark memories of the first one I spent with you.
Every year I’ll remember the day I realized I had fallen in love with you.
The day I realized how perfect we could be,
How much I cared for you,
How long it had really been.
Every year I’ll remember our phone call after Christmas and New Year’s.
And how much I had missed you that winter.
Every year I’ll remember the last time I saw you.
How I cried utterly alone and empty on the floor of my bedroom, leaning against a cold bed.
How I sobbed incontrolably.
How I woke the next day feeling only apathy, walking through halways thinking only of you, with watery eyes.
Every year I’ll remember our last conversation.
How banal it was.
How simple it was.
How routinely it sounded.
Every year I’ll remember the day of our first phone call.
And how I wished we’d never have to hung up.
And how I hoped you couldn’t hear my pathetic smile over the phone.
Every year I’ll remember the day I heard you were moving away.
And how I felt that you were taking part of me with you.
Every year I’ll remember the day that I came across the thought that I’d never really stop loving you.
That you’d always have a warm and nostalgic place in my heart.
That you’d always keep years of my life with you.
That you’d always live in the back of my head along with memories and stories of us.
That you’d always be the one all the others would have to live up to.

Regardless of who I am with.
Regardless of who I’m in love with.
Regardless of who I’m loving and who is loving me.
Regardless of who I’ve promised my heart, devotion, loyalty, life, and love to.
Regardless of who I’m sleeping next to.
Regardless of whose hand caresses my hair.
Regardless of who I sing to.
Regardless of who I write for.
Regardless of who I come home to.
Regardless of who I wait on.
Regardless of who took over what used to be your place in this bed,
In this life,
In this heart,
In these words.
You will always be present.
I will always love you.
I will always miss you.
I will always look to you for inspiration.
And every year I’ll remember special days.
But every day I’ll remember you.
Every day of every year,
I’ll remember you.
Every day of every year,
I’ll be in love with you.
Every day of every year,
Will somehow belong to you.

Every year I’ll remember the day we met.
The day you so swiftly wondered in so casually.
Neither of us knowing how intent Love was on making you permanent…
Every year I’ll remember the day we met.

I’m walking with my head high,
And I’m laughing aloud.
I’m talking about my future,
And I’m describing how wonderful it will all be.
I’m looking anxious to see it all over,
I can barely wait for the end of a phase.
At first glance this is all you’d see.
But behind this facade,
Behind this mask of excitement, of joy, of eagerness,
There’s fear.
And there’s nostalgia already.
And there’s prospects of loneliness.
And though I’m following my dreams,
And though I’m doing what I know will make me feel accomplished,
And the only thing I could ever do,
I can’t help but me scared.
Because I will never be able to come back to this house in this way,
This house I grew up in.
I will never be able to lie in this bed in this way,
This bed where I’ve written songs, poems, essays even.
This bed where I’ve cried, and where I’ve sung myself to sleep so many times.
I will never be able to be in this place, at this time again,
I won’t be able to relive this moment of my life.
My father won’t drive me to school every day anymore,
And my mother won’t kiss me good-night while I pack for the next morning.
And my sister and I won’t be able to leave the house 10 minutes before a movie begins at the empty mall.
And my grandmother won’t recite to me stories of when she was younger,
Or say how proud she is of me.
And I won’t go to that blue and beige building I’ve gone to everyday for the past 8 years,
And see the same familiar faces.
I’ll never be here again.
Never in the same way.
And I’m pretending that I don’t mind that.
I’m pretending that I’m not scared of starting fresh,
I’m pretending that I’m not terrified of being alone,
I’m pretending that I’m not frightened of fading.
But I only pretend to those who look at first glance.
Because I know I’m scared.
I know I’m terrified.
I know I’m frightened.
And I know we’re still pretending.

I thought I could ignore you from now on.
I though I had found distractions.
And I thought seeing you wouldn’t bother me anymore.
I thought our talks were meant to be about the weather from now on.
I thought we would sit at opposite at opposite ends of the table.
And I thought the closest thing to a favor we’d do for each other is hold the door.
I thought I wouldn’t talk about you anymore.
I thought you wouldn’t look my way anymore.
And I thought the thought of an “us” was to never cross our minds.
But you changed the rules again.
You changed your mind.
And you pulled me in,
Despite my distance,
Despite my struggle against your hurracane.
So destructive,
So wreckless,
Always barging into my life when I’ve just managed to build myself back up.
You’re back to wanting me,
Because you saw someone else did too.
And you revived all we used to be.
We’re back to our conversations.
And to how naturally we fit together.
We’re back to comfort,
To safe,
To familiar.
But this time I can’t get carried away.
Because I’ve been here before.
And my love for you isn’t enough this time.
It’s not enough to make up for your fear,
And your cowardice.
It’s not enough to make up for my tears,
And all the time I’ve waited around for you to gain courage.
It’s not enough to make up for your indecision,
And your difficulty in expressing love.
So this time I won’t get carried away.
I won’t be swept off my feet by your sweet words,
And your warm embraces,
And the way you hold my hand while we speak,
And the way I kissed you, when we would leave that hallway where it was just the two of us,
And the way you touched me when you first confessed your love.
This time I won’t get carried away.
Despite our December,
Despite our Rome,
Despite our hallway,
I won’t get carried way.

But you’re making it so hard…

When the night draws in,
And when you turn off the lights,
And the background noise from the TV dissipates,
And when everyone else is sound asleep.
When the only light that shines upon your bed is the garden’s lanterns.
When the only sound is the music you’ve turned on so you don’t feel so alone,
When the only touch you feel is Sorrow’s soft brush of your cheek,
When the only comfort comes from Dellusion’s words and allure.
When your back is against the wall, while you sit on your bed, and you stare out into the darkness,
Into the nothing that fills your room,
When you find you’re out of luck,
Out of strength,
Out of faith.
When you have difficulty breathing,
And yawns sneak into your sobs,
When sleep has drifted out of your bed,
When your worries and fears catch up with you.
When you collide with yourself,
And all you’ve been avoiding.
Everything that no one else understands.
Those ridiculous fears of who you’re leaving behind,
Who you’re going to be 8 hours away from.
Those pathetic hopes for someone to applaude when you’re on stage,
And kiss you every time you put the microphone down.
Those insane wishes of wanting more than halfway,
Of finally watching something come together.
When all of the things you wish you could hide underneath your pillow and smother deep within you sit by your side,
And they keep you up at night.
When they all collide.
And create a beautiful crash,
That you can’t help but admire for a split second.
Until you have to pick up the pieces the collision left behind.
Leaving less and less pieces every time.

And it’s not You and I.
You and I don’t collide.
You and I don’t crash.
I collide into myself.
I always seem to crash into me.

I don’t know how many more times I can write that I miss you.
I don’t know in how many more ways I can describe it.
I don’t know how many more synonyms I can come up with.
So I’ll say again that I miss you terribly.
And I wish things were the way they were before.
I’ll say again that I crave your kiss everyday,
And that seeing you is still a test to my self-restraint,
Where I have to hold back to not reach for your hand.
I’ll say again that I miss your words,
Or even your lack thereof,
And your looks when you thought I wasn’t looking.
I’ll say again that I still want an us,
I still want you,
I still want what you promised to give me,
And that I still want you to have enough courage to fight for what you want.
I’ll say again that I love you,
Unexpectedly, and without wanting to.
I’ll say again that I’m still waiting.
Waiting for you to make up your mind,
Waiting for you to start running,
Waiting for you to stop waiting on others to make your decisions.
I’ll say again that you love me,
And that you can’t hide from that.

But listen closely,
Because even though I’m repeating myself once more in this never ending travel of us,
I’ll tell you this: I won’t say these words again.

Cresci.
Mas ainda sou a menina que dormia no teu peito.
Tao fragil,
Tao vulneravel.
Continuo assim,
Nao deixes que a minha independencia e suposta forca te enganem.
Continuo a ter medo de dormir sozinha,
Nao por medo do escuro, dos monstros,
Mas sim por medo da solidao, do esquecimento, do silencio.
Nao deixes que a porta fechada te engane.
Continuo desprotegida e aterrorizada,
Dando pequenos e tremidos passos em frente,
Fora do ninho,
Fora da infancia.
Nao deixes que a distancia te engane.
Temo deixar-te.
Pessoa que admiro,
Que me guia,
Que me encoraja,
Que me ensinou a amar,
E o que significa orgulho e dignidade e honestidade.
Temo ter demasiadas saudades,
Do homem que viu os meus primeiros passos,
Os meus primeiros desgostos,
As minhas primeiras alegrias,
E me compreende,
E ao qual sou igual.
A maneira como falo,
E os meus gestos,
A maneira como pego num copo,
E de como róio as unhas.
Temo nao conseguir sobreviver sem a tua constante presenca fisica,
E perder-me,
E ficar presa na solidao,
Sem as tuas cantorias,
Sem as tuas piadas,
Sem as tuas conversas excessivas as 8 da manha,
Enquanto ainda estou meia a dormir,
Sem o teu beijinho de boa noite quando chegas a casa,
Mesmo que seja as 3 da manha e me acordes.
Cresci,
E parto em busca do sitio onde pertenco,
O futuro que me espera,
Do que ainda me falta para crescer.
Mas desengana-te,
Ainda sou a menina que pede mais filmes as 2 da manha,
Ainda sou a menina que adormece enquanto come a sopa,
Ainda sou a menina que suja as janelas do restaurante dos avos.

Pai, nao voltarei tao cedo,
Nao esperes acordado,
Mas enquanto isso,
Adormece a menina que chora no teu peito.

Because you were so ideal,
Because you always knew what to say,
Because you encouraged and believed in me,
Because you made me laugh in the face of stress,
Because you made me feel worth it,
Because you swept me off my feet,
Because you took me by surprise,
Because you loved me softly,
And sweetly,
Because you gave me a sense of security,
And because you made me fall for you without knowing I was.
Because of too many reasons,
That may seem irrational to some,
But make perfect sense to me,
I’m not giving up on you,
I’m not giving up on us.
Despite knowing you might have.
Despite knowing I should.
Despite knowing it’s not good for me.
Despite knowing how much it hurt before.
Because I miss our conversations,
And I miss your words of encouragement,
And your hidden messages of love,
That I had to decipher.
I miss the comfort you provided me,
And I miss your awkwardness.
I miss sharing things I’d never really shared before.
Because I miss telling you about my stress,
And having you soothe me.
I miss our pointless arguments,
And I miss your bad musical taste.
Because I miss the way things were before I fell in love with you,
And you fell in love with me…

And in the end,
It’s because I still love you,
Silently, insanely, and carelessly,
That I’m not giving up on you.
That I’m not giving up on us.
Not while you’re merely a torturing armslength away.
You’re constantly at a torturing armslength away.

You smother your feelings.
You bathe in logical thoughts.
You bury any nostalgia.
Any warm memories.
You are covered in a rain of apathy.
You erase any trace of hoping.
You put on a mask of ignorance.
You shake away the smell from the pillow.
You pretend to understand, to make sense.
You lean on lies,
You don’t lean on love anymore.
You avoid silence at any cost.
You fake a smile, a laugh, an attraction, even.
And then it hits you.
That there’s no way of hiding it.
No way of rationalizing it.
No way of getting it back…
Then it hits you.
That they left.
That there’s something missing.
Something friends can’t replace.
Something family can only make you forget for so long.
Something that makes a huge void in your life.
A void that makes you lean on lies, and pretending, and logic.
But then it hits you.
That no matter how hard you try,
You’ll always prefer to lean on love.
You’ll always prefer to leave their scent on the pillow so you won’t feel so empty.
You’ll always prefer to hold a warm memory than a fake smile.
Eventually it hits you.
And when it does Love awaits you with open arms.
So you can lean back on its shoulder.