I don’t know how a person says goodbye, hello, I love you.
I don’t know how a person says any of that. I don’t know how a person wakes up every morning. Sleeps every night. Knows what they know, knows how they’ve had to live. And still wakes up. And still falls asleep dreaming.
How do you tell a person. I admire you. I look at you and wish I could be so strong. Without sounding fake. Pathetic. Pointless. Jaded. Jealous.
How do you talk to a hero. And angel. How do you tell someone, “You know me. You know my heart.”
What do you do when you know you haven’t found anyone like that. What do you do when you know you still love someone who’ll never love you back. How complicated does life have to get before I can just sit down and breathe?
How many Tracy Chapman songs, how many Tina Dico songs, Bob Dylan songs, does it take before you realize…you’ll never live as much as they have. You’ll never feel so much as they do. That you blew it. That you’ll never get that feeling ever again. No matter how hard you try.
I’ve blown it so many times. When does it stop? When can I say, I did this. And I fucking did it by myself. And I fucking did it. I’m so afraid. And I can’t tell anyone. Because how does a person say, “I’m tired. And I’m afraid. And I just want to sit with you. Just stay with you.”
I’ve lost. And I’ve won. What is this life?
