Writing: Moment in Time - Musical Therapy

A song plays in the background, feeding my mood exactly what it doesn't need. I lean back, listening to the lyrics, but not hearing the song. "You tell me you love me, I ain't so sure. Love is something earned and not just spoken. How can I trust again, when I'm knocked to the floor. You cant always fix whatever has been broken." eases through my speakers and replays in my mind.

"Truer words have never been spoken," I say to the song, but like always, it never answers. I sip from my Sierra Mist and chat idly with a friend in Georgia. I am not sure if my answers have any relevance to what he is saying, but it feels good to just freely type.

The song changes to Breakup Song by Cowboy Mouth. "How appropriate," I murmur to myself. It seems to be a contagious disease affecting everyone lately. I listen to the beat, but the lyrics are lost to me. The beat is uptempo, electric. It moves through me, shocking my system like Cowboy Mouth always seems to do.

"Why you wanna do me like you do?" says the next song. I can look at many relationships and I wonder why these words have not been spoken. I lean back and think of the people I met since I moved up here, specifically her. It seems she has a thing for me, but I don't act on it.

"Why shouldn't I?" I ask myself. Sometimes it feels like everyone's against you, sometimes it feels like the world doesn't care. What you gotta do is you gotta get up, you gotta find your heart, you gotta find your soul, you gotta find those strengths inside yourself that make you take on the day, take on the world, that make you feel alive, the song answers. "That doesn't help me." I answer back. I know why I don't act on it. It's no secret to myself. I don't act on it because it's not her I want to be with. She is an awesome person, but she definitely deserves someone that can give her his entire heart and soul.

My mp3 list shifts again, Lips of an Angel plays. I enjoy this song. It makes me remember someone I don't want to remember, but the song makes sure I don't forget so easily. She hurt me deeply, but I think I am finally over it. I can think of her and not think of only the time I came home to an empty apartment.

I'm standing here until you make me move, says Lifehouse. I enjoy this song too. It reminds me of how I chase things that will more than likely hurt me in the end. No. That's not true. Fate has a way of twisting things and things might work. Things might not. I guess that's up to what God has in store for me.

There is no you, there is only me, screams out of my speakers. Appropriate timing I would say. I have lost my faith somewhere along the line. My beliefs and faith have been stripped away layer after layer. Do I believe in God anymore? I truly do not know the answer to that. I grew up a troubled child, prone to aggression and one day changed virtually over night. Only things did not get better for me. Things got worse and have changed me. I did not have a happy childhood I hear my other friends had. I did not have a happy adolescence my friends had. I did not have a happy young adulthood that I hear people have. My life has hurt and has kept me closed.

I turn off my mp3 player after I listen to The Atari's The Saddest Song. I finish off my Sierra Mist and close the doors that I opened up to share this post with you all. I lock them tight and turn off the lights.

"Another time, perhaps," I say to myself. "Of course, another time never comes" a smile wrly. I turn and walk down the corridor passing one locked and barred door after another. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Your mom and dad left you with me for the day. I don't care if you want to go on rides. You're pathetic, you know that? Stop crying. What are you, a baby? Stop crying or I will hit you again. You know your parents didn't even want to keep you? If your mom didn't have a miscarriage, they wouldn't be burdened with you. Here comes your sister, if you don't stop crying, I will REALLY give you something to cry about. How did her door open? I close it tight, remembering her hatred of me. My aunt. The sister of my mother. Family is supposed to love you, I guess she never got the memo. Her words carry with me to this day. I was 6 years old and at a fair with my cousin, sister and aunt. I got the pleasure of watching them ride rides while my aunt destroyed my selfworth. I close the vault and lock it.

"Another time..."