I feel like Laken...
I experience this feeling during two points of the day. When I'm
playing music, and when I think of you. I really don't see how
the two connect at all. But there's a deep burning in my chest,
and an uneasiness inside of my stomache. On the one hand,
musically, it seems irrational. Why should playing music, a gift
which God gave me, cause me to feel this burning? Not just a
burning of passion, but something that causes me to experience new
degrees of synergy with every note. A synergy that causes me to
literally feel the pain in every note that I play.
On the other hand, I understand entirely. Why should I not feel these emotional attacks when I think about you? If these thought make me so nervous and uneasy, imagine what it was like seeing you. Even the people around me noticed the uneasiness as I sat there, as I stood there, as I attempted to walk. It's been long enough, and I should begin to feel some relief. I thought running close to 7 weeks of sobriety now would help coping set in, and yet, it seems to do nothing more than cause a greater awareness of how I feel.
I suppose since we're out of hands now, seeing as there are only two, we move in between them, to the chest, to the heart. Take both of your hands, and cross them tightly over your chest, squeeze tightly, and now tell me what you feel. Pressure. Difficulty breathing. Something within you begining to unsettle. Welcome to my mutual discrepancy. I can't help but think of Taking Back Sunday at this moment, "I'm sick of writing every song about you." I can't stop, regardless of how little good it does for me. So when these memories cause this kind of pain, and the only songs I have to sing are songs about that which is no longer mine, then I engage in nothing more than an act of emotional masochism. An act of my own volition, nonetheless.
You still cause a burning.
The End.
On the other hand, I understand entirely. Why should I not feel these emotional attacks when I think about you? If these thought make me so nervous and uneasy, imagine what it was like seeing you. Even the people around me noticed the uneasiness as I sat there, as I stood there, as I attempted to walk. It's been long enough, and I should begin to feel some relief. I thought running close to 7 weeks of sobriety now would help coping set in, and yet, it seems to do nothing more than cause a greater awareness of how I feel.
I suppose since we're out of hands now, seeing as there are only two, we move in between them, to the chest, to the heart. Take both of your hands, and cross them tightly over your chest, squeeze tightly, and now tell me what you feel. Pressure. Difficulty breathing. Something within you begining to unsettle. Welcome to my mutual discrepancy. I can't help but think of Taking Back Sunday at this moment, "I'm sick of writing every song about you." I can't stop, regardless of how little good it does for me. So when these memories cause this kind of pain, and the only songs I have to sing are songs about that which is no longer mine, then I engage in nothing more than an act of emotional masochism. An act of my own volition, nonetheless.
You still cause a burning.
The End.