There are posts online. Texts and pictures on my phone. Little notes left around my place and in the car. Those have cast their own shadows, reminders of moments gone too soon. But the thing is (and this probably sounds harsher than it really is), you can learn to look past physical things. Or perhaps better said – you can get used to the feelings that come along with seeing them on a regular basis.
Maybe you even need that normalcy. Need it to help you try to carry on like nothing's wrong.
Some people go to the bottle, or the cookie dough ice cream. Maybe that's the smarter play, who knows.
Until you hit that voicemail.
Jobs come and jobs go. I had the love of a beautiful woman. Something far more important, something far more valuable.
She didn’t love me because I was employed. She loved me because I was there. We fed off each other’s energy. We found a way to live in each others moment -- writing stories and making music together. Singing with friends, racing across town just for a few minutes together at lunch, travelling across the state on a whim. That wasn’t one person trying to impress another with expensive dinners or carefully planned dates. That was two people just running inside a bolt of electricity and passion, not caring where it took them.
At some point, regardless of why – I stopped being there.
“Knowing myself better” might have its benefits..
[Now Playing: Etta James - "Damn Your Eyes" ]