Tuesday, December 16, 2014
Lately I've been thinking a lot about old friends. About those childhood promises made in crumpled up blanket forts and whisphered over entwined fingers. About how, as we grow, those promises that lit our eyes with hope, slowly lose their strength.
Around this time of year people return home, or at least to what was once their home. That's probably why my mind has been circling around the subject of old friends. It's like I know I'm going to run into them and I know I'm going to be cringing the entire time. I know I'm going to think about our end and about how I didn't want it to be the last of us.
There's this song, Inside of You, by favorite band The Maine and I've always loved it, but I don't think I fully connected with it before or fully understand what it meant. Maybe I still don't and I'm just applying it to my own life, but I feel like that's when music becomes so much more. When it can be applied to so many different lives and different situations that even if it wasn't what the writer was exactly going through, it's still somehow valid.
I was seventeen when I first listened to this song. That was almost five years ago.
Anyways, there's a part in the song that says
"Don't say that you just want to runaway, replay all the things that I tried to say."
I was listening to the album this weekend and those lyrics, well the entire song really, just hit me. I feel like I needed to listen to this song with new ears so many years ago. I was at a concert loudly singing off key to these same exact words and they're just now, four years later, hitting me.
Maybe I wasn't ready then, but I am now.
I said everything I could have said, but if someone wants to leave, they're going to leave.
Most of my friendships have ended because there was a lot left unsaid, but this is the one instance where everything was laid out on the table and it ended up just being left there to rot.
I said everything but don't leave me.
I told myself I wasn't going to ask her to stay and I didn't.
I don't regret that.... well, at least most of the time I don't.
Posted by Katie (The Literary Files) at Tuesday, December 16, 2014