Tonight Is All There Is (The Maine).

Live and die in fantasy.

A while ago, I had made the mistake to believe that the problem was that this town, this house, wasn't my home. I thought that if I left, my heavy chest would be relieved, that I would breathe more easily. That was how I ended up staying in Quebec for two weeks at a friend's family's house. I tried to clear my head, to start again, but it didn't work. I had hoped that being in a country with a different language, a different way of living would make me find myself. When I was there, part of me thought it was working, that I was starting again, opening up to myself and all of that, but the biggest part of me realised that I just ran away from my responsibilities, from my life.

Sure, it made me discover things. I had found places where I felt at peace for an hour or so, I had been in cafés and pubs were the live music made me feel alive. In those moments, I understood why some people called travelling the real life. You got to see and feel so many different things. Yet, I wasn't in the right state of mind to consider it that way. I felt guilty most of the time when I was there because I knew I was bothering this family and while my friends went on with their lives, I had put mine on hold.

Honestly, I couldn't remember the last time I felt alright. There was always something that made me feel like I didn't belong where I was. It was a feeling I couldn't ignore, my brain always linking everything to it.

However, that peculiar night, the emptiness filling my chest wasn't as present as it usually was. I was surprised to see so many friends at that pub, all waiting for us to start playing music. I was surprised that I was there when just two days ago I had decided to give up on that band of ours. It made me rethink life just to see what not giving something up can do. I felt at peace, for once.

Six songs with a lot of tiny mistakes and not much talking later, we were putting our stuff in the back of the pub to try and meet people, see what they thought of our music. Suddenly, peace had left me. It didn't feel all that great to face people after you forgot twice your own lyrics. I knew we were meant to make mistakes in order to grow and become better at what we were trying to do, but it still made me sick that I could mess up one of the only things I loved doing. Something that could be so easy because, after all, I was the one who wrote all the lines. Or at least, it appeared easy.

A man probably in his forties came to me when I was sitting at the bar, ordering a beer. I needed that after what people had told me. I had asked them to be honest and they didn't disappoint me for that, but the words would be resonating inside my head for a long time, that much I knew.

"If it's worth doing, it won't be easy son," he said. "Was it your first time?"

I looked at him intensely,not meaning to be rude, just trying to see if I should take his piece of advice. "Yeah, it was," I answered with a shrug. I didn't really agree with him. Some things were very easy and yet, still worth doing. Breathing was a perfect example of that.

"People get way too judgemental nowadays, but it wasn't that bad for a first time. I've seen worse, trust me."

Trust wasn't exactly the easiest thing for me to do, even though that wasn't his point then. Deep down, I knew we hadn't been that bad. However, there was this part of me telling me that we could have been much better if I hadn't left my friends a week ago because of a disagreement about a song that didn't even have a title. That was rather stupid of me to even suggest that one.

"I know. Thanks very much for the kind words," I nodded and smiled at him. It was nice of him to say all of that to me, but really that didn't matter much. At least not to me, not when I was sober enough to think rationally.

All feelings are momentous, whether it be excitement, confusion or disappointment. Mostly because there are different shades and degrees of each feeling. Right then, it wasn't the same emptiness than the one I felt before playing. This one was much deeper; because I didn't have a goal anymore. Before that performance, I could look forward to going on a stage, but now I didn't have that to keep me going.