2 am and she calls me ’cause I’m still awake
Can you help me unravel my latest mistake
I don’t love him, winter just wasn’t my season
She texted me after work, asking if she could come by my house. I made us tea, wrapped her in a blanket and held her till she ran out of tears to cry. She’d been bruised, not in a way that you could see, still when she told me it hurt, I believed her every word. We have a type of bound I haven’t heard of before, it’s more than understanding, I feel her pain as if it was my own.
Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize, hypocrites,
You’re all here for the very same reason
When I got there she’d already been lost for a while. I asked where she was, they just shrug. Everyone is just doing their own thing, apparently there had been a fight, she was no where to be found, and that was that. They all seemed so accepting of that as a fact, I didn’t knew whether to be mad or disappointed. I wanted to yell at them, to let them know that’s not how you treat her, that she deserves better than to be left wandering alone in the streets during the night. They would never understand.
I didn’t knew where she was, I would have been just as clueless as them, if I didn’t knew where I would go if it was me. It took me a few minutes, and there she was, curled up, sobbing helplessly. I run to her and wrap my arms around her. We didn’t talk, she stopped crying. After a while she started making small talk. Everything was gonna be alright.
‘Cause you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable
And life’s like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button girl,
So cradle your head in you hands
And breathe, just breathe.
More often than I would like to admit, I’ve found myself feeling on the verge of losing it. When that happens and I find myself sitting in front of my locker failing to hold back the tears or sitting on the bathroom floor struggling for air, she’s the one that comes to mind. When I cry for help she responds in a blink. There’s not a lot that can be said but she always finds the key words. I feel a little bit less insane when I talk to her. I can’t bring myself to voice thoughts so freely with anyone else.
May he turn twenty one on the base at Fort Bliss
Just today he sat down to the flask in his fist,
Ain’t been sober, since maybe October of last year.
He’s sitting in front of me at caffe, tears in his eyes, he’s almost whispering but the desperation in his voice is loud. I always know the right thing to say but I can’t bring myself to say what he wants to hear. “She wants to break up with me“. I’m at loss for words. Let her, you’re gonna be fine, it’s the best thing that can happen to you. He’s way to in the dark to see that clearly. He will someday, I know (in hindsight, I was right). Yet he’s breaking in front of me, asking for help, and I don’t have the tools to help him. For once I can’t help and it frustrates me to the bone.
Here in town you can tell he’s been down for a while,
But my God it’s so beautiful when the boy smiles,
Wanna hold him, maybe I’ll just sing about it.
Once again I’m at a caffe in the middle of the afternoon with a boy on the verge of tears. But from him I never expect this. He was always my support, the one I knew I could tell everything. Yet, while I gave him every word, he always gave back very little. Whenever I pointed out this discrepancy he would say that was simply our dynamic: he would help me with my issues and I would distract him from his with mine. I didn’t like but I could accept it. Because of this it was surprising when after a couple years without seeing each other, he texted me saying that he was in need of a friend.
Vulnerability was not a trait I ever though I could see in him, but I was there to hear his struggle and to help out in the best way I could. I always think of the first thing he told me when we sat down: I’m sorry if this is unexpected, I just needed a friend to talk to and you came to mind.
But you’re just as far in as you’ll ever be out
These mistakes you’ve made, you’ll just make them again
If you only try turning around.
If I get it all down on paper, its no longer
Inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to
‘Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you’ll use them, however you want to