you really don't want to know

I hate to be that “emo” kid who writes about how dark the world has been, so I guess today’s realizations might keep me off the hook.

I awoke this morning to my clock radio (a rare occasion, I’m ashamed to admit). I have a tendency to hit the snooze button way too many times. I always wondered why my brother hit his snooze button for 2 or 3 hours. Either get the fuck up, or never set the alarm in the first place. Cause hitting snooze for 3 hours is just fucking stupid. But of course now I do it too. Gah.

But today. Today I hit snooze once and said I wouldn’t again. And I didn’t. And I’m so glad I didn’t. The next time I heard the radio, it was part of a broadcast of Acoustic Café. I heard a woman singing, and her voice caught me. It was at once beautiful and haunting. Somewhere between Billie Holliday, Macy Grey and Janis Joplin. I can’t explain it, but her music made me laugh and feel, and when she hit certain notes, it made me want to cry. Fifteen minutes later, I owned her latest album. I love iTunes Music Store.

So the realization is this: I’m beginning to feel again. The numbness is going away. I laugh every night at work. I talk to tons of people. I wake up to a rollercoaster of emotions brought on by music I can’t even terribly relate to.

It may seem silly to some, but the fact that I can break into tears over a line or two in an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer means I’m getting back to my long-absent old self.

Anyway. Amy Correia. Check her out if you like folk. (caveat: all folk music is better live. the album is good, but not as good as live)

On second thought, click me.

When I was 18 years old, apparently I knew what it meant to be dedicated. I moved in with a girlfriend who I grew to love dearly, but with whom I never really saw myself spending the rest of my life. After I ended our relationship, I eventually got into another, and I ultimately ended up living with that girl too. She set the tone for what I would henceforth refer to as “real love” or “in love.” While she and I might have made it work, even considering our differences, I decided that we weren’t quite perfect enough for each other. A long while after that, I fell in love with a crazy woman and her child. I got hurt. And somewhere along the way, I forgot what it means to be dedicated. Devoted. Committed.

I wish I’d never lost sight of that dedication I had when I was younger.

You deserved better. You deserve better.

No matter what happens from this day onward, no matter how much or how little difference it will make between you and I, I want you to know you’re the reason I’m getting better. The horrible irony is that I’ve hurt you so. I hope someday you’ll forgive me.

I’m sorry.