Does it set on fire all the things that you touch?
18. "Sunlight (Darius Remix)," The Magician, featuring Years & Years, 2014.
The week I spent in Evansville after my accident was filled with stress, but nevertheless provided a break from the real world. There wasn't much I could do as the insurance company attempted to hash out the details, so I did my best to enjoy myself, despite the anxiety threatening to crush my chest at any moment.
When I got back to Wilmington, everything hit me. Adam hovered, on edge because of all the things my car crash could have meant (but didn't). I had to be back at work the next morning. I missed Amanté. I missed my family. I was without a car and the insurance company was telling me I might not have a damn thing to show for it. And there was life to be reckoned with.
Once I got settled back in Wilmington, I immediately put on pajamas and spent most of the day sleeping. I was so tired. Every time I woke up and thought about all the things I had to worry about, I'd feel exhausted again and go back to sleep.
That night, preparing to brush my teeth, I popped in my ear buds. Dental hygiene is so dull. You brush for two minutes. You floss. You rinse for another minute. You devote, like, five minutes of dead silence and staring into mirror to this and it's just really fucking boring. Not tonight, dammit. There was too much I didn't want to think about.
This song was up on my MP3-player and as it slowly rose to full volume, something in my chest expanded like a balloon and threatened to float away entirely, taking all those heavy worries with it. "And it fills me up...and it starts to shine...and I see it burn when you bring me sunlight..."
For four minutes, I knew everything would be fine, no matter what. For the rest of the night, even.
Amanté always indulges me by playing around with my camera and me.
Click to viewThe week I spent in Evansville after my accident was filled with stress, but nevertheless provided a break from the real world. There wasn't much I could do as the insurance company attempted to hash out the details, so I did my best to enjoy myself, despite the anxiety threatening to crush my chest at any moment.
When I got back to Wilmington, everything hit me. Adam hovered, on edge because of all the things my car crash could have meant (but didn't). I had to be back at work the next morning. I missed Amanté. I missed my family. I was without a car and the insurance company was telling me I might not have a damn thing to show for it. And there was life to be reckoned with.
Once I got settled back in Wilmington, I immediately put on pajamas and spent most of the day sleeping. I was so tired. Every time I woke up and thought about all the things I had to worry about, I'd feel exhausted again and go back to sleep.
That night, preparing to brush my teeth, I popped in my ear buds. Dental hygiene is so dull. You brush for two minutes. You floss. You rinse for another minute. You devote, like, five minutes of dead silence and staring into mirror to this and it's just really fucking boring. Not tonight, dammit. There was too much I didn't want to think about.
This song was up on my MP3-player and as it slowly rose to full volume, something in my chest expanded like a balloon and threatened to float away entirely, taking all those heavy worries with it. "And it fills me up...and it starts to shine...and I see it burn when you bring me sunlight..."
For four minutes, I knew everything would be fine, no matter what. For the rest of the night, even.
Amanté always indulges me by playing around with my camera and me.