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Same Sad Song

I have played the same sad song on those meager plastic keys both before and after I had you secured in my life. And before I realized that no one can ever really be secured in my life.

The song was never complete until the heartache occurred, the relationship subsided, and my eyes were drenched in a wetness unlike the onion tears on your cutting board.

Some art can only be made correctly when created with the intended emotion of the original artist. A lot of the sad songs I’ve written can be played correctly now, because even I had not experienced true heartbreak whilst composing them. I published a song just a few days ago (stream it: that relates to this situation. I ironically wrote it a few months ago with the intention for it to just be a sad song that makes people cry. I did not relate to the narrative in the lyrics at the time. Little did I know it would be the most relatable song to how I was feeling within a couple brief months.

One of my favorite lyrics from the song "Night Shift" by Lucy Dacus, which happens to be showcased on the lyric wall in my room, reads, “In five years I hope the songs feel like covers dedicated to new lovers…” and I love how Ducas herself acknowledges that the lyrics will most likely relate to her in a new way when someone else breaks her heart.

Back to that same sad song. I learned and played it over and over throughout quarantine, throughout every emotion of this relationship, and I am writing this journal today because after some time away I revisited it on my keyboard with a new perspective. It had calmed me down through giddiness, anxiety of what was about to blossom into something beautiful, nerves as it went downhill, a depressing heartbreak when it ended, and now a sure, newfound closure that I’ve never had before.

I was never sure about obtaining this closure until I read my friend Olivia’s blog post yesterday that inspired me to resolve the bitterness I have been feeling for weeks on end. Hopefully this blog post will inspire some of you to do the same.

It has been one of my best decisions of the school year as of yet. Besides starting an art museum with homemade canvases in our apartment kitchen. This came in at a close second.

I woke up this morning with a clearness in my mind and a weight lifted off of my shoulders. I let him know how I was feeling, set our differences aside, and offered a peaceful friendship that I could not find in myself before.

I knew while playing that same sad song today that it would have made me depressed to play two days ago, because it was the song I played throughout our entire relationship to calm down in gladness or nervousness or sadness. Now that I can see the maturity of our friendship and light in the Sun as we rebuild it slowly, I am not thinking of the what ifs or what he is thinking I’m thinking because I told him.

And I am really proud of myself for that. And I am proud of him for handling it so maturely as well.

I have been watching a lot of spoken poetry on YouTube lately (not because I searched for it, YouTube just has a way of creepily recommending exactly what you need to hear based on how you’re feeling) and a poem relayed this: you have to allow someone to learn from their mistakes or else they’ll never be able to grow-- not just shut them out and halt all communication.

I realize this is not the best scenario for everyone, and it does NOT mean you have to become friends with someone who hurt you again, but you have to find a way to make the anger in your soul dissolve instead of carrying it in your thoughts forever. God encourages us to forgive all of our enemies.

So maybe this is your sign to call that person up that’s been on your mind. Or, you can continue to play that same sad song with the emotion it was intended to carry.

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