Like how it sounds.
Tonight, I had a pint in the Halfway House after our wind band concert. I was tired. My face was tired. Things are beginning to get dried and chapped. It was a well-deserved pint.
I sat next to Emma in the pub. She asked about my plans. "Are you staying?" I said no. We talked about my reasons and whether or not I would if the Philharmonic opened up a seat for me in the horn section (or even just a sub position). I said it would be a very difficult decision I'd have to make. I couldn't give a definitive answer.
In this conversation, Emma came close to crying. I'm leaving. Yes, we're friends, but... I don't get it.
Who am I that someone would cry over?
Who am I that someone would miss?
Two years ago, I told my boyfriend that I was leaving to go to England. He knew I was thinking about it, and that this was a possibility. When I told him in his car after he picked me up from work one evening, he lost it. He just broke into very large, distorted pieces of himself. He cried - and not in a way I've ever seen someone cry before.
I couldn't understand.
Yes, we 'loved' each other. Yes, we were in a very serious relationship. I still didn't understand. Who am I? What do I have that would make someone else cry if I were suddenly taken away from them?
Tonight, I felt the same when I saw Emma's face blotch up and eyes fill with liquid. Why? She doesn't know me [but she does].
She does know me. She likes me. Alan loved me.
But I don't understand why.
I sat next to Emma in the pub. She asked about my plans. "Are you staying?" I said no. We talked about my reasons and whether or not I would if the Philharmonic opened up a seat for me in the horn section (or even just a sub position). I said it would be a very difficult decision I'd have to make. I couldn't give a definitive answer.
In this conversation, Emma came close to crying. I'm leaving. Yes, we're friends, but... I don't get it.
Who am I that someone would cry over?
Who am I that someone would miss?
Two years ago, I told my boyfriend that I was leaving to go to England. He knew I was thinking about it, and that this was a possibility. When I told him in his car after he picked me up from work one evening, he lost it. He just broke into very large, distorted pieces of himself. He cried - and not in a way I've ever seen someone cry before.
I couldn't understand.
Yes, we 'loved' each other. Yes, we were in a very serious relationship. I still didn't understand. Who am I? What do I have that would make someone else cry if I were suddenly taken away from them?
Tonight, I felt the same when I saw Emma's face blotch up and eyes fill with liquid. Why? She doesn't know me [but she does].
She does know me. She likes me. Alan loved me.
But I don't understand why.