Tonight Is All There Is (The Maine).

Spinning in circles again.

"I don't know if I should be surprised to see you out there," a familiar voice said. One that kept repeating the same sentence over and over in my head. It's a bit Don Juan, don't you think?

"Oh so you don't know everything?"

    I was trying to play tough but I could feel this weight inside my chest being lifted. Maybe she didn't understand my behaviour in its entirety, but at least Kelsey felt the need to escape too, judging by her presence here.

    Sometimes it wasn't solitude that you were looking for, it was proving yourself that you weren't alone. When you texted someone telling them that you were going on a walk for a few hours, you didn't always notice it, but you often hoped that they would come join you. That hope was what killed you, as Stephen King already said. Because it was unconscious yet still there, ready to be shattered to pieces when you spent two hours walking on your own.

    What people didn't understand was that everybody felt alone in their own way. They all had a different way of showing it. And they all hoped for someone to notice that they wanted company which was a certain distraction from their lives, from their problems.

    Human company was double-edged, especially since people had different views about things, which they did not always express. It could either be that distraction you were looking for, or what messed up with your mind even more.

"You're shivering." It was just a statement, no emotion was attached to it. But her hand caressed my arm and suddenly old visions came back to my mind. Ones I had spent months trying to get rid of.

    I remembered that, at first, I'd thought I hadn't learnt my lesson. Then I'd realised that the first time I'd had no problem with it whereas the second time, my head had been begging me to stop; somehow I just hadn't been able to listen to it. However, the ending was the same : each time I closed my eyes, I felt her hands softly caressing my skin, playing with my hair. The worst was the memory of her cupping my chin, slowly leading me to my own destruction, to her lips touching mine for a brief second before our lives went separate ways.

    My arm jolted back before I could even comprehend what was happening. I hated to see how dependant to attention I could be and I didn't want it to trouble me anymore. I was fed up of the sleepless nights spent wondering if I was just a stranger to someone who meant so much to me. I knew I was a lonely soul, which made me loathe the moments someone made me think I wasn't.

"It is a cold night. I should just get going." Running away was a cowardly move to me but I couldn't help myself. If I lost the control of my emotions, it would take way too long to have it back; meaning restless nights and dreadful days. I didn't wait for an answer and just started to put my guitar into its case, taking my bike and letting my legs carry me somewhere I could try to breathe normally.

    Before entering my house, my eyes caught the vision of something absolutely wonderful that was hidden by the trees in the forest : hundreds of stars shone in the sky. I felt my body relax then tense a few times while I made myself a coffee which I drank outside.

    There was no way words could explain what I felt in that moment. The light alcohol made my body feel numb and my mind useless, yet I was frozen there, looking up at history, at immensity as if the philosopher in me had come out. I felt ridiculously small and my problems seemed stupid. I was naïve for thinking that anything mattered at all.

    I'll admit that perhaps I thought of ending my life again then and there, although I knew it wasn't what I truly wanted. It still appealed to me like a fatality; something that would happen, so why not reduce the damages? Why not cut short something that could only be described as miserable? A meaningless quest for something long lost, perhaps never even found.

     My brain was overflowed with adjectives and metaphors while all I could really understand was that something inside had broken, something that was meant to keep me all together but couldn't anymore. A part of myself I didn't know existed.

    Suddenly, all the things that I thought I had overcome began to creep up on me again, showing me that no, I wasn't over that time my brother told me how useless I was, or over that girl I met one summer and never saw again. All of the disappointment and deception ate away at me while I watched dying suns lighting up the sky of a dying planet. Because everything was dying; whether it be people, things or even feelings. Everything was temporary... until it possibly came back.

    Memories gave me a little faith that things could be alright even for a short while. Yet, at the same time I hated them because my mind always found a way not to appreciate the images and feel nostalgic instead. They made me live in the past and therefore forget about the future and the present. Somehow, I was hoping to see an old friend in the corner of the street, or to sing the songs I lip-synced to on a cold night with a beautiful stranger.

    The worst was how, after a while, when a memory replayed a great number of times, I didn't exactly remember what was said or seen. Just the way I felt at that time and when I remembered it the few first times. I remembered a blurry face and a sinking hope of seeing them again. Everything that was broken inside of me was so because of that cruel hope, the one you had already felt and lost yet that still found its way back to you. It made you vulnerable because you didn't want to forget but you couldn't completely move on. It put a constant weight on your chest and the only option for it to hurt less was learning to live with it until another memory took its place. After all, life itself was a vicious circle.