Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova – Falling Slowly
(If you never got a chance to see the movie Once a couple of years ago, you should do so now)
I can’t escape him. Not when he still lives next door. Not when he continues to reiterate a standing invitation. Not when I already made the mistake of falling asleep in his arms and allowing my body to remember how it felt to be held. Some nights this loneliness eats me up and I am sliding my phone open, slipping on my shoes, heading for the door. I never open it, though. Something always stays my hand. I close my phone, replace my shoes in a thoughtful line, stare into the dark wondering if it will be like this always. Or, if all I need is distance. Distance and time.
My heart is stretched in too many directions. For every hurt I cure there is a new rip that must be repaired. I push and I pull and I quell the storm and I give in and I overflow. The pressure in my chest builds and I want. I want so much.
You keep on saying how important it is to stay vulnerable. I want to trust you. But, who do I know who is vulnerable anymore? These days we are all about constructing walls, drawing lines, and creating boundaries. You are stripping down my defenses and I want to believe it will turn out ok. That there is safety here. But, when you tell me you adore me I can’t see your face. When you are talking about the future I am just staring at my ceiling alone in the dark.
Paint me a picture, yes. But, then pull a Mary Poppins, step into the chalk and make it come true. I’m begging you…
…and I don’t beg.