And so it is.

It took a while for the weird feeling to come, but it came and hit me hard in the stomach. It didn't mix well with the mulled wine and the beer, let alone with the music that played in my ears. And there was more, there was still something I really had to do, and I knew I would burst if I didn't get to do it very soon.

cocktail.

A glimpse of civilisation.

From time to time, you have to escape from the village and breathe some city air for a change. The thing is, if you're not used to it any more, you end up behaving like this...

rediscovered.

I just listened to the song to this story, and felt like reading it again. Then I felt like sharing it, so here it is. I hope it's not too depressing. (:

Feet on the air, head on the ground.

It felt like years had passed when a familiar tune seemed to open my eyes. I knew it was going to be played. At least I had wished for it, and this meant, however hard it was going to be, that he would make it happen. But now that I saw him in this terrible state I hated myself for doing this to him. 

He was sitting in the front row. His face was pale as always, and the circles under his eyes were even darker than usual. He looked so broken, so tired, and so old. Never before had he looked old to me. I could tell he hadn't slept in days. 
As the song went on he closed his eyes and clinged to the bench with a lot of effort, trying to keep control over himself. The music broke up in the middle of the song, only a few instruments kept playing quietly, and suddenly I remembered what was going to follow. 

I felt taken back to the last time the song was played at this place. I was standing outside the entrance of the church, listening to the violins playing faster, waiting for the right moment to come. Everyone inside stood up, the doors swung open, and I glided through them, all eyes on me and my beautiful, white dress. I would never forget the look of perfect happiness in his eyes when they found mine, when everything around us just disappeared as if there was just the two of us and the violins, singing the most beautiful song.  
But now he was sitting there, head in his hands, crying so bitterly. I had seen him crying before, but this was killing me. I felt like a fool for believing that no one could cry like this for losing me. And more than anything I wanted to be there for him, hold him, comfort him. I wanted to tell him I was there and everything was going to be fine. But I couldn't. 
Nothing was worse than this. You can't be there for the ones you love when they need you the most. When they want you the most. Because you're dead.

The song was fading and so was I. Fading to be gone, forever.

Waste not, Want not.

I keep telling myself that I'm really happy here, but then, there's moments like this when I realise I'm not. I wonder why that is, and I can't seem to find an answer. What I do know is, I've been waiting for this for so long, and I had to make so many compromises, so now it just hurts to realise they're going to be more. Still I keep expecting, though I know that expectations lead to disappointment, but I don't know how to stop. And I have to ask myself if there's still a point in aiming at the things I'm aiming at, or if I should better give up and start living without trying. Without always wanting more. But how can I stop wanting?