I wish that I could forget you. And you. And all the rest. The memories are painful. No matter how good it was to live them, they are forever tarnished by the fact that we will not be.
I know I should remember them for what they were and cherish them for the happiness I felt, but with the life I’ve had, I can’t. No matter how good it was, we never actually were. I was only your friend. None of you could love me the way I wanted to love you and knowing that degrades the happiness that I had.
Maybe one day I can look back and remember you all fondly, but not this day. On this day I am still alone and all I have is hauntings.
You were all my mistakes. If we had dated, I could forgive myself of them. But we didn’t and I cannot. I cared in spite of myself. I always knew I shouldn’t, but that hurt little boy that imagined a new family when his life fell apart wouldn’t let me leave you be. He had to cling to you and try to force his dream upon you at my expense.
I’m sorry that I ever cared. None of you wanted of me what I wanted to give. However, I will always care. I’ve hurt myself for it, but if I don’t care I can’t find someone that will care for me as well. It hurts so fucking much, but it won’t always be this way. There will be at least one that cares. I hope. I cant think about that possibility anymore…
This was the 6th of 12 or so drawings that I did one night while listening to Good Apollo I’m Burning Star IV Vol. I. I was in a transcended state at the time and have been looking for meaning in these drawings since I finished them. I realize that this is just shoved into this post here, but it will come around and make sense, I just didn’t have a good way to fit it in to start. (As a quick note, I did go over the couple digitally. My scanner sucks and either blew out the colors or didn’t pick them all up.)
When I first saw this image, I thought I was seeing the embrace of lovers. It was beautiful, seeing them lying there together. As I continued to look on it over the weeks following its creation, my understanding of it began to change. As my personal situations changed, my understanding of it became deeper. Yes, this is lovers intertwined, but it is a fleeting moment. He can never say the second part of that lyric, the follow up to “In a phrase to cut these lips…”. The I love you will not come. He knows it is fleeting and that though he loves her in this moment, and she may care for him, it will not last. She is ephemeral, fleeting. He loves her, but she will not stay with him. So he bites his tongue and enjoys what he has while he has it. He’ll hurt soon enough, so he holds tight to the joy that he has, knowing it will sour when it all ends.
He is me and the drawings tell a story. They tell the story of my struggle with love, of all things I want, what little I have had, and, possibly, what I may one day find. It started with Anna and putting her to bed and it ended in blood. I will post it all one day, or I may add pieces of it here and there to posts as it fits in with them.