Love May Make You Blind, Kid
Ave Maria
Gratia plena
Maria, gratia plena
Maria, gratia plena
Ave, ave dominus
Dominus tecum
Benedicta tu in mulieribus
Et benedictus
Et benedictus fructus ventris
Ventris tuae, Jesus.
Ave Maria
Ave Maria
Mater Dei
Ora pro nobis peccatoribus
Ora pro nobis
Ora, ora pro nobis peccatoribus
Nunc et in hora mortis
Et in hora mortis nostrae
Et in hora mortis nostrae
Et in hora mortis nostrae
Ave Maria
-Franz Schubert
You know, sometimes, you get that feeling, deep down in your gut, when you think there's something you don't know. Or when something happens, and you expected it, but when it does, you don't. Like when you drop a cup of water. You can feel it slipping out of your hand, you see it move almost in slow motion for a single moment, your heart jumps up to your throat, you reach out to catch it, and then everything's moving faster than it should be, and you hear the shattering glass.
I was driving down one of the main streets today, and I was making a right turn, and I could swear that, for a moment, Billy was looking out at me from the crowd. He's the only person who never ever cut me any slack. He was so difficult, and he could cut you to the quick with one word. I think he hated what he was doing; he hated the pressure, he hated the constant tension. And I understand that. You can't live like that for long without snapping.
And there was Colin right next to him. He seemed like such a sweet guy at first, he was nice, he was funny, he was everything I might have wanted in a guy. But I think I knew that things wouldn't work. It was kind of a vicious cycle, once I felt he was lying to me (he was), I started doing the same thing. He never told me what was really happening, and that was the real problem. You need complete openness in a relationship, don't you? There can't be any space, in that way.
And they were both looking at me like they knew what I was thinking, they knew everything that had and would happen to me. But the thing was, separately, they didn't know me. Each knew a different half of me.
Was that always going to happen? One half of me and not the other?
I lost control of the steering wheel, and I crashed.
I woke up in the hospital. Fortunately, I wasn't knocked up too badly. I had been biting my lip while I was driving (this is a bad habit of mine nowadays) and I managed to draw blood once the car made a collision. You can see a cut now, but it's nothing too big. Also, there were a few cuts on my arms and one on my head, although I'm trying to get the bandages off as soon as I'm sure the cuts won't open again. But for now, I guess I'll have to live with a roll of gauze in my pocket.
But it was a good experience, I think. Moving on isn't all about leaving past experiences behind. I have to re-evaluate myself, too. Get my act together, stay clean.
I have to make the two halves into a whole.
I have to move on.
Gratia plena
Maria, gratia plena
Maria, gratia plena
Ave, ave dominus
Dominus tecum
Benedicta tu in mulieribus
Et benedictus
Et benedictus fructus ventris
Ventris tuae, Jesus.
Ave Maria
Ave Maria
Mater Dei
Ora pro nobis peccatoribus
Ora pro nobis
Ora, ora pro nobis peccatoribus
Nunc et in hora mortis
Et in hora mortis nostrae
Et in hora mortis nostrae
Et in hora mortis nostrae
Ave Maria
-Franz Schubert
You know, sometimes, you get that feeling, deep down in your gut, when you think there's something you don't know. Or when something happens, and you expected it, but when it does, you don't. Like when you drop a cup of water. You can feel it slipping out of your hand, you see it move almost in slow motion for a single moment, your heart jumps up to your throat, you reach out to catch it, and then everything's moving faster than it should be, and you hear the shattering glass.
I was driving down one of the main streets today, and I was making a right turn, and I could swear that, for a moment, Billy was looking out at me from the crowd. He's the only person who never ever cut me any slack. He was so difficult, and he could cut you to the quick with one word. I think he hated what he was doing; he hated the pressure, he hated the constant tension. And I understand that. You can't live like that for long without snapping.
And there was Colin right next to him. He seemed like such a sweet guy at first, he was nice, he was funny, he was everything I might have wanted in a guy. But I think I knew that things wouldn't work. It was kind of a vicious cycle, once I felt he was lying to me (he was), I started doing the same thing. He never told me what was really happening, and that was the real problem. You need complete openness in a relationship, don't you? There can't be any space, in that way.
And they were both looking at me like they knew what I was thinking, they knew everything that had and would happen to me. But the thing was, separately, they didn't know me. Each knew a different half of me.
Was that always going to happen? One half of me and not the other?
I lost control of the steering wheel, and I crashed.
I woke up in the hospital. Fortunately, I wasn't knocked up too badly. I had been biting my lip while I was driving (this is a bad habit of mine nowadays) and I managed to draw blood once the car made a collision. You can see a cut now, but it's nothing too big. Also, there were a few cuts on my arms and one on my head, although I'm trying to get the bandages off as soon as I'm sure the cuts won't open again. But for now, I guess I'll have to live with a roll of gauze in my pocket.
But it was a good experience, I think. Moving on isn't all about leaving past experiences behind. I have to re-evaluate myself, too. Get my act together, stay clean.
I have to make the two halves into a whole.
I have to move on.