All a Lie

I have a strange relationship with this song.

The reason I haven't posted in ages - though I've written two full and many, many partial songs - is because I was waiting for myself to finish a specific one ("Long Way Home"), as though that would be the ONE song worth waiting for.

It's not.

It might be, when I finish it.  But right now, it's not.  I have three verses and a chorus, but it's not enough.  And the mind-space in which I was when I started writing it (nearly two months ago!) is one with which I am no longer familiar, which is the primary problem.  But I will try to bring it all back, because I have to.  I owe it to the girl I was then to finish it.

None of which, of course, has anything to do with this song.  So I'll start again.

I have a strange relationship with this song.

It's a relationship based on the fact that I love the moment it's about.  Love it completely - and relive it often, still getting goosebumps after all this time.

But I wrote the song out of some masochistic motivation to force myself to hate the moment instead.  Because it's safer.  It's easier.

(It also didn't work - mostly because it's hard for even me to convince myself of something that's not true.)

So I wrote this because I got scared, and thought that hurting myself (by disfiguring a sweet memory) would be the best way to deal with that - which, obviously, it wasn't.  It never is, no matter how often I try it.

Because here we are.

I don't know how much background you may need for this, but it's about a friend of mine.  A friendship I lucked into, and I think both of us got there by accident.  He's someone I didn't know I needed, didn't know I wanted to have at this point in my life - but when he's not around, or we are of necessity aloof to each other, I miss him.  We don't even have that much in common, aside from our interests in hockey (thank goodness he's also a Devils fan) and other sports.  But we are both, in one way or another, broken, even if in this we also differ: he stubbornly (but perhaps wisely, given what he's told me) wishes to remain permanently so, whereas I am afraid of never getting all of my pieces back together.

And I think I would, or could, fall for him, if I weren't so hell-bent on breaking my own heart.  (Well, also, if he who has my heart weren't so hell-bent on breaking it, over and over, for me.)

This song is about the first time he hugged me.

I was hurting, one Friday night the first week of March.  I had come so close to spending the evening with the aforementioned "he who has my heart," but things broke between us and, even though I didn't know at the time how much more would break before things got "better," I must have sensed something, because I was, as I said, hurting.  Badly.  Nearly as badly as possible.

And he could tell.

Later, I got so afraid of just being another conquest* he'll discard just as soon as possible that I wrote this song.

*But it was just a freaking hug.  I'm seriously insane.

All a Lie

you know, you really had me going for a pretty little while
things I'd never said before, I was saying to you
never thought I'd be taken in by a single pretty little line
but after four or five times it started to sound like the truth

CHORUS:
the feel of your shirt under the palm of my hand
you were holding me in an empty room
look at us, neither one was giving a damn
and I was leaning closer into you
I said, "damn, you smell good,"
and you said, "you feel good,"
and it felt like a perfect night
but wasn't it all, wasn't it all a lie?

you know, I'm starting to think you got what you wanted from me
it felt like a good idea then, but now I'm feeling sick
never thought I'd want you to be a discarded memory
and I can still smell you on me so I need to shower real quick

CHORUS:
the feel of your shirt under the palm of my hand
you were holding me in an empty room
look at us, neither one was giving a damn
and I was leaning closer into you
I said, "damn, you smell good,"
and you said, "you feel good,"
and it felt like a perfect night
but wasn't it all, wasn't it all a lie?

BRIDGE:
I lived every day for someone else, and you fell for it
this has twisted up in my mind and now I'm over it
but still I said we should make a habit of it

CHORUS:
the feel of your shirt under the palm of my hand
you were holding me in an empty room
look at us, neither one was giving a damn
and I was leaning closer into you
I said, "damn, you smell good,"
and you said, "you feel good,"
and it felt like a perfect night
but wasn't it all, wasn't it all a lie?
oh-whoa, wasn't it all a lie?

In the weeks since, he became my first kiss on the cheek.  It sounds so silly, I know, but it means more to me - especially the way he said "thank you" - than my first (and last) kiss.

Four years ago, already?

Much love, and thank you for the musik.

Every day, to make myself feel bad, I'll start to wonder if this was the thing to do.