Love the trumpet. How can you not? That’s the part of the song that’s been stuck in my head for so long. Can’t help but love it.
Well, I looked her up. Googled her. Dumbshit mistake on my behalf. Why? I don’t know. Some people make unquestionably asinine decisions without a reason behind them. That’s it, though. I just looked her up once. I’ve said it before and I’ll said it again, I never learned how to deal with losing her. I just did and went through the motions. She always told me so much bullshit that opposed the notion I’d ever be without her in my life, and to this day, even though it’s been a while now, I’m still conflicted in my mind.
She’s a part of my past, and that’s that. She’s not a member of my present, but that’s what scares the hell out of me. Things don’t feel right without her. You get used to a routine and don’t expect things to change, and when they do sometimes you just never readjust and rehabilitate the way you want. I will, but it’s just that I don’t want to. I’d rather go back to Friday, July 24, 2009 and start from there to rectify things than start from scratch here. But I must do the latter as the former isn’t physically possible.
Wanting to be with someone that doesn’t want to be with you is a terrible thing. You know what’s worse than that, though? Wanting to be with someone for who they were during a specific time period and not who they are now. That’s soul-killing, heartbreaking and detrimental altogether. When you close your eyes at night and think about who they were when your love for them was at the pinnacle of its peak, good luck falling asleep. Another good luck to you when you think about how and who they are now.
“Don’t worry about and let go of the things you cannot change”, they say. Easier said than done, because that only makes you feel helpless when it involves somebody you love who fucked you over. You just gotta let it go, which is the only advice I can offer myself. Cherish the best time period, the years 2008 and 2009, and move forward if at all possible. There’s no easy way out, but you gotta stand your ground and not back down. The past can eat you alive if you let it.
Courtesy of the daily prompt.
Do I begin writing about the particular line from the song? I reckon so. I once waited for her. I did. I passed up on amazing opportunities and other chances with other things or people. Looking back, I shouldn’t have done so during the second year, the waiting part.
Waiting for someone, for whatever reason, is a commitment. Do so if they deserve it; if their actions do not permit this unremitting loyalty, why bother?
Don’t give yourself to someone that doesn’t deserve you.
To me, this is the greatest song ever written. And I can’t even listen to it.
“Wish You Were Here” by Pink Floyd. The album itself by the same name, just like the song, is my favorite album/song of all-time. But you read the above correctly. I can’t listen to it. I don’t give a shit if this song was intended to be about Syd Barrett. It takes on a whole new meaning to me. One that hurts the hell out of me with absolute pain.
This song reminds me of the years 2008 and 2009, the two best years of my life (so far).
It’s a relentlessly sad track that hits you at about 16 seconds in, when David Gilmour performs the intro on a 12-string guitar, processed to sound like it was playing through an old transistor radio, and then overdubbed a fuller-sounding acoustic guitar solo. The passage was mixed to sound as though the guitarist was sitting in a room, playing along with the radio.
The intro riff is repeated several times. At the end of the recorded song, the final solo crossfades with wind sound effects (reminiscent of “One of These Days” from the 1971 album Meddle), and finally segues into the second section of the multi-part suite “Shine On You Crazy Diamond”. The song, to me, gives off a vibe of absolute finality and closure. There will be no going back to what was. For me, it’s like I feel there’s no going back to 2008 and 2009, no matter how great those years were, but I do wish that time period was still here and that things were still the same
The lyrics encompass Roger Waters’ feelings of alienation from other people. Like most of the album, it also refers to former Pink Floyd member Syd Barrett and his mental illness-related breakdown. Both Gilmour and Waters collaborated to complete the song.
To me, though, it’s a personal song. It’s a song about learning to move on… holding someone close in your heart and growing as a person. Life is a road; it has its ups and downs and is very loud. When you love someone, the ride stops for a moment, and the time you are together is never forgotten.
Wish You Were Here reminds me of the years 2008, 2009 and 2010 — 2008 and 2009 were the greatest years of my life (again, so far).
No auto-tuning or flashy, computerized beats. Just real, raw, pure music derived from emotion and passion, something you can’t get from today’s lackluster, talent-deprived mainstream music.
Can you tell Heaven from Hell? Can you tell what will work out well from a nightmare? Blue skies from pain? Something “good” from something “bad”?
What this song says to me is that you can never tell, at least about your own life what is good and what is bad. Look at all of history… the life story of every great artist or the history of every war. Things that seem great one second are just pain the next, and possibly more importantly, things that seem great now can be the undoing of everything.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions and often the road to enlightenment is paved with painful mistakes and lessons.
The song grinds this message home, then expresses loss in the titular line.
That loss seems to be for someone but is equally for all the missed opportunities and chances. It is the loss of all the lives that could have been. All the dreams left unfulfilled. The chances not taken. Because we could not tell heaven from hell, blue skies from pain. Because we could not see beyond the end of our [temporal] noses.
The final segment of the song makes it all the more personal. A relationship that is not working. Two people, neither grasping their dreams… both plodding along in the same routines. Day after day, in the same old way, they bang their heads against the same barriers, never breaking through… never quite telling that today’s blue skies are eternity’s pain… never quite getting to the point where they have to break free or break down.
Just a pair of lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year… running over the same old ground, wondering what they’ve found.
Wish you were here…
Two people’s hearts may be attached but their minds may not agree. External barriers may be set between them, perhaps indelible. Letting go, feeling the loss, bludgeoned by despair and entrenched by said loss. There’s birth and death in everyday life. When you wake up, the death of sleep but the birth of a new day. The end of an amazing relationship? A new beginning to learn from the said relationship, and a chance to grow and prosper as an individual.
My favorite part of the song is the beginning… the rhythm is uncanny. Just the first, small riff hits me like a ton of bricks every time I listen to it. The hair on my arms stand up.
Maybe it all flew over my head. Ho hum. Welcome to the machine.
“I know someday you’ll have a beautiful life,
I know you’ll be a sun in somebody else’s sky, but why
Why, why can’t it be, can’t it be mine”– Pearl Jam “Black”
I no longer count the days that were washed away. But when I look back it’s a dark tunnel with nothing to portray. And when the sun goes down everyday, I spin off into a world where reality lifts. In a place where your hands trace my skin, my veins lighting up like a road map leading the way. The warmth of my body blankets yours as what is mine becomes yours. Then your lips meet my ear as you whisper softly what I used to hear…
The melody of your voice carries away as the golden rays seep through the cracks of my room. And now my bitter hands are greeted by cold sheets on the other side of the bed. It takes a second to wake from the love I can’t hold onto. And I realize it’s just another morning without you here. Soon enough, another night…
It’s the quiet that hurts. It’s the ache that I feel when our favorite song comes on the radio. It’s me looking for you when I go out, every corner, every turn. It’s me going grocery shopping alone. It’s me at night waiting for a call that never comes. It’s when I pass by a restaurant that we used to eat at. It’s when I order my coffee that I got you hooked on. It’s the smell of bacon, it’s the sunset we used to watch, and the pictures I keep under my bed. It’s all the little ways I remember you. They haunt me everyday.
It’s our love turning black, fading away.
I’ve heard this song before, but this morning I discovered that I actually like it. Although it reminds of ‘her‘.
As I detailed in the last post, I’d completely lost all of my dignity. I was pathetic. Not even a caricature or a shell of the person I was in 2008 and 2009. I was a completely different person in the worst way possible, losing every last bit of respect for myself as a man and overall human being. Bekki and I were only talking once a week going into late December 2010.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010 we had a three hour conversation. And I didn’t hear from her again after that. She just up and left. No more phone calls. No contact. She didn’t even break up with me. Nothing. Nada.
I was an absolute mess for the entirety of 2010. No answers, no closure, nothing. The girl that said she was all mine and mine only, the girl that said she’d always love me, the girl that said she’d always ‘be here for me’, wasn’t. She was gone. I didn’t know why. I didn’t know where she went.
Then, while on Facebook one night checking my messages at around 12:30 A.M. on Wednesday, September 7, 2011 I saw on the “Other” tab “Other (1)” indicating that I had a message from somebody I didn’t have added. Upon clicking it, I saw her name pop up. A familiar feeling, like the one of my heart dropping to my intestines, was felt again.
In her message, she admitted to lying to me and cheating on me. She wanted to patch things up with me. Long story short, we talked.
We talked, in fact, for three months. Three glorious months of things that were like the way they were in 2008 and 2009. Any man with a modicum of self-respect would have said, “Get the fuck out of my life, you dirty whore, and never come back”, but me? I loved this girl more than any other human being ever could or would. She was my baby.
Then, at 12:29 A.M. on December 8, 2011, that was the last time I ever heard her voice. She’d fucked me over once again.
Four months later, on her 18th birthday on April 23, 2012 I sent her an angry letter in an email. I didn’t call her any names, I didn’t even say anything bad. I just detailed her lies to her, tried to show her the truth of her dumb actions/mistakes and allow her to understand the dumbfuckery of what she did.
I texted her, telling her she needed to read the email. She never responded to the email, but she did to the text.
She simply said, “I’m sorry for everything. I didn’t have to grow up as quickly as you. I’m trying to mature and grow up. I wish you a long and happy life.”
That was it. That’s the last thing she ever said to me.
That’s how she never, ever felt one iota of remorse from whining about my past, lying to me and cheating on me. I guess that’s the kind of excuse you can use to lead on somebody for years of their life that they’ll never be able to get back. I loved her more, supported her more, cared about her more and did more things for her than any other human being on the planet ever has, ever could or ever will, and she fucked me over without one bit of remorse.
She ruined an amazing relationship that should have lasted for a lifetime for no reason. And I blame myself.
The guy she’s with now can’t even hold a candle to me. I’m better than him in each and every single way as a man and overall human being. I know I am. She had a baby in January of this year (2013). I’m never going to hear from her again. And that fact eats me alive each and every single day. I love her more than that dumbfuck of a shmuck ever will. I hate the way things went down. If I could, I’d go back to Friday, July 24, 2009 and fix things. I’m certain that if I would have stood my ground about her whining over my past in late 2009 that we’d still be together today. That she would have never cheated. But oh well. C’est la vie. Such is life. She hurt me as badly as she could and never felt bad about it. She ruined things with the greatest human being — me — that she’s ever met.
All of the above, and the other posts I’ve written? The nutshell version of them.
I still love her and I still miss her. I don’t miss the whiny, lying, cheating, childish [insert insult here] that she rendered herself into. I miss the loving, caring, kind, supportive, intelligent, honest, trustworthy, loyal, humorous, amazing girlfriend that she was for one year.
I’ve been majorly depressed for almost four years now. All because of all of this that’s happened. Like I said, I’d give anything for it to be physically possible to take a time machine back to Friday, July 24, 2009 and go from there to change everything.
I miss the way things used to be.
I created this blog to chronicle my past, even if I’ve written seven posts so far detailing what’s transpired in a nutshell. But I created all of this not only to chronicle my past, but to chronicle my future. I want to rectify my life. I’m bitter about everything. I miss her so fucking much. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’ll never, ever get over her 110%. She was my first love, and I still believe that she and I should have been together forever. I haven’t contacted her in over a year and I won’t again. I need to heal up, at least a little bit.
I want to better my life as a person and man. I want to move on. I want to get back into great shape and be happy again. That’s why I created this blog. Show failure. Experience more adversity, battle through it, and become better.
I have one year. Next August I’ll go back to college and fix everything. I must. I just must. Failure is an object. Whoever said failure isn’t an option is a liar. Failure is the easiest option there is because it’s always available. But I refuse to fail. I just can’t.
The last near four years have been the toughest time of my life. When you invest years of your life with and for another human being, losing them can tear you apart and to pieces. I’m in pieces, but I know and believe wholeheartedly that I can put myself back together. I want to go back to being who I was in 2008 and 2009 before things started to fall apart.