Counting Up The Days (Camren)

Before (End and Begin)

355 days without Camila in my life. 8520 hours without her radiance, without her ethereal beauty. 511200 minutes without her keeping me sane and upright with her sturdy arms and calming reassurance. 30672000 seconds without her touch, without her mind overflowing with ideas and passion, without her heart seeping love and positivity and life. 355 days without living, and suddenly I'm breathing again.

I lost my heart almost a year back. Camila took it with her, just like she did my strength, my passion for music and my love of life. She stripped me bare as effortlessly as she walked out of that door, not even looking back one last time. The problem is I can't blame her for a single thing that she did, I can only blame myself.

We're living in a dream like nightmare, the juxtaposition in this statement is as true a mirror as any to the lives we lead. Ecstasy is followed by hollowness, love is taken over the next second by loss, our bodies are not our own. Camila knew she'd already sold her soul, she knew there was no going back from the contracts we might as well have signed in blood, she knew she was still to be as free as a bird whose whole world is its cage. But she was after the cage being filled with only one person instead of five, she was after being free from talking as a "we" until we lost all sense of "I". She also wanted to liberate us, leaving our own cage with four and hence more room to spread our wings even if we were still not able to fly. What she didn't realise was that my plumage drained of all colour once she wasn't there to shine on to it, my heart stopped beating once she wasn't there to inspire my blood to flow, and I forgot what the sky looked like once she wasn't there to lift my head up to the heavens any more.

I blame myself. I should have been there to protect her from the monsters that were more real than the ones I still see under my bed each night, and now also see every waking hour of the day. I should have fought for her and stood up for her every time someone used their words to kick her even deeper into her very own hole of despair. I should have screamed from rooftops that she was a talent to never be taken advantage of, that she was a whirlwind soul inside of a fragile body. Mostly however, I should not have been scared.

I blame myself. I should have realised that love is worth it all. I should have realised that love is the foundation of life and that without it I would not be living. I should have shown the world that love is love whatever form it takes. I should have realised that love is not measured by the amount of people who love me, but instead by the amount of love that is shown to me by those who do. A glass is half full, we drink the water not the air. Mostly however, I should have given it all up for Camila.