You know… I have been watching that video a few times, as I had only REALLY known the music before. I find it to be so interesting how they do it. Meaning, there are people in the audience, and she jumps into a tank, hands cuffed, and begins to drown. That’s what the sorrow is. The drowning….but she doesn’t drown, and the last line of the song is “Joy. Will. Come.”
I think it’s beautiful still…..
I have been thinking/dreaming since last night (surprise at least I went to bed way earlier than I used to) and there is something that I want to say to one person. To be honest she might not ever read this and I have to be okay with that. But if she does, she will know it is to her:
I really hope that one day you realize what you did. I understand that I told you I didn’t want you in my life anymore, but that didn’t mean to share every secret that I told you. I didn’t share yours with others, and yes I do have secrets of yours that you may not remember. I didn’t share those secrets of the others’ secrets. Yet you felt totally compelled to share every bad part of me, and for what reason? To feel better about yourself? To feel better about the fact that I released you from my life? To try to cover the hurt with anger? The guilt with anger? You played the victim that night, and you weren’t until I made you one. Granted I really needed a break, but there were other ways of making me take it than sharing things that didn’t need to be shared. In the end YOU ALSO hurt those people that I hurt… you might not even realize it now… but you did. And you killed me inside, and for what reason? Revenge? Well you accomplished what you wanted. Keep those people all to yourself and take the attention that they give and use it to your advantage. Then go out and smoke a parliament and realize that they don’t make you any less lonely… and that one day, like me, they will find out the truth about you as I had to.
Yet I know I am hurting so bad because I still love you. I kicked you out of my life also in anger, and now you have said you are “scared” of me, but I know that is you on egg shells. But it hurts more because I did care so deeply for you my friend, or my not so friend. I don’t know. And I wish that I could make the thoughts all stop, the thoughts of why and how this all happened. I guess that is what happens to anyone who tries to keep secrets. Any story— the unrighteous hero is killed somehow.
And in my Shakespearean tragedy you were the one who stabbed me with the poisoned sword…
If you really cared about me ever, you wouldn’t have done what you did, and believe me I know much of it. And I will move on, and time will pass and I will heal and start again…. and maybe I will be lucky to have a friend like you who has more of a conscience that if we were never friends again, they would still respect my privacy as I would theirs. That they would let the moment that I have messed up (as I know I will) pass, and they will be there saying, “I know you don’t want me but I am here….” and not “It is so hard to be your friend.”
That is the kind of person I want in my life…. though I doubt many would want who you are….. on the inside.
Better thought: Maybe you need a break as well….
