So Gone (Ed Sheeran)

Things go wrong.

There was always that moment in someone's life when they realised how deep into something they were. Usually, it came after quite a few hard times. I knew it was the case for me.

After an entire week -which may not seem that big of  deal for some people- without having any kind of contact with Flora, I realised how hard love could hurt.

I hadn't talked to her either, but I still felt ignored. It might have been a result of the paranoia I knew I developed when I thought about something a little bit too much. I felt as if she didn't even like me, and let me tell you this was awful.

I got these flashbacks of all the things she did and everything she said that could only prove she cared at least a bit. But, somehow, I couldn't convince myself that I hadn't made everything up.

I knew I'd made the effort of showing my feelings. I knew it because I knew I'd been awkward about it, and it probably was the funniest things she lived when, really, it wasn't meant to make her laugh. Yet, I couldn't decide if it was enough, if she got the message. Which led to me not wanting to keep on showing her, because it might be too much, since I'd already done quite a lot of things.

I'm very aware that I complicate everything, that in reality, there must be an explanation and Flora doesn't talk to me because she has other things to do, but I can't help thinking that one text before going to sleep wouldn't hurt anyone.

Here we are again with texting and technology. It's a shame we live in a century which makes everything depend on those.

Just the fact that I admitted that what I felt for Flora might be love freaked me out. The last person I felt so strongly about broke me.

I strummed a few chords, breathing deeply, trying to come up with something interesting. It wasn't coming.

Madness is what I often think about at night. I know I can see a few parts of it in myself at times. I guess we're all a little mad to begin with but something goes out the way and makes someone lose their freedom.

One second, I hated the relationship that Flora and I had, and the next one, I was listing everything I loved about her. I despised her, the distance between us and then it's myself that I can't stand. I guess that's how paradoxical love is. And it scared me to think about it, about her, like that. It also confused me, but there was no way out of this. I was already in too deep.

I went downstairs, to the bar and  sat down at the counter, waiting for my turn to play when Mike came and sat beside me.

"How are you feeling today, man?" he asked quietly. I think he knew that the answer would be the same I gave yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that day.

"What about you? What's up?" I really wish I wasn't there at the moment. There were so many things I'd rather do.

And then it hit me. Music. I didn't feel the will to play music, just because of this lack of communication between Flora and I.

'Life was a wheel, its only job was to turn, and it always came back to where it started.' This is a quote from Doctor Sleep by Stephen King. Let me start to explain how painful it was to see how true this is.

Whatever everyone says, we always, always make the same mistakes. The only thing that changes is the context. I saw it coming, I even made myself stop playing music with Ana. But now, with Flora, I hadn't noticed anything. But at the end of the day, it is the same consequences, the same mistakes and the same inability to blame any of them.

I was so glad to have finally found something that made me happy, that felt so real that I hadn't seen how toxic it could be.

Some people aren't meant to feel complete.

I know most people think we still own all the broken pieces of ourselves, that we just need to put them back together. What I think is that, sometimes, you lost some of them. Sometimes, life took them away and nothing can fill the gap. No one can either.

You lure yourself, thinking that the beauty of the stars, the smell of your favourite book or the sound of your favourite song makes you whole again. You believe that you'll find the one person who will be able to be the missing piece of the puzzle. But what if there's more than just one piece missing?

It's just an illusion.

"Ed, come out of it!" Mike laughed.

But I couldn't. I didn't want to either. Because we all know how hard it is to face reality once you found a way to escape it.

I was being over-dramatic, but what could I do?

The wheel turns and everything gets back to what it used to be. Before I see it coming, I'll start to drink again. I'll forget what feeling alive is and I'll blame myself.

Everything eventually fades away. Feelings do so much quickly than memory of your favourite book's smell. I've come to learn this the hard way.

I think that the only reason I silently agreed with starting this thing with Flora is because I'm scared I'll never be loved. When all people ever did was leave, I only wanted a proof that I could be loved.

"Just one second, please." I whispered to Mike before taking my phone.

I'd like you to be honest with this : what we have, is it over?

Sometimes you ask questions you don't really want the answer to. Questions which lead to pain. But you ask them anyway, because you know that the truth, no matter how harsh, is better than an illusion.

That night, when I played, I could only think of which answer I'll get, if Flora decided to send me one text. When I laid awake until the lights of the day began to rise, the only thing on my mind was the fact that I could not have misinterpreted the signs.

We often make mistakes. Can someone be blamed for not really knowing their feelings? It most likely isn't any worse than any other mistake someone can make.

I was drinking my third coffee, a cigarette in hand, when my phone buzzed, signalling a new text. Flora was the one telling me not to smoke anymore, but I had a feeling she didn't care anymore.

I genuinely thought it could work between us, but it turns out I definitely am a lonely person. I don't mean to hurt you. You deserve the best.

I deserved the best, all right. The best was, for me, the burning sensation of alcohol going down my throat, which I felt quite a lot in the next hour.

The wheel of life made a turn and swept me off of my feet. The same mistakes, all right? It was no secret that I had the tendency to drink everything away.

And that's how the wheel began to roll again, crushing everything on its way.

'Your mind was a blackboard. Booze was the eraser.'  Stephen King's way with words was much better than mine, that was for sure.