You can’t think you’ll get lucky wishing on nothing
Or crossing your fingers and hoping you’re fixed
A while ago I used this song to round off a post – a poem – which signalled I was beginning to feel better about things. Better enough, at least, to be able to write about it (without breaking down). It’s a song called ‘Give Me Something to Believe In’ by Less Than Jake, off their most recent album, See the Light (2013). As I write, I’ve got the song playing on repeat, somewhat loudly, so no one else in the house can hear me sob.
I’m crying for the second time in as many days, after perhaps weeks of dry cheeks. I’m not feeling good at the moment. I wrote earlier on today about how I’m feeling really lonely. I still am. The thing is, I now worry that I’m going to regularly express this feeling through tears. I don’t want to. I accept that the feeling won’t simply evaporate, but I wish the tears would stop. I’ve cried enough over that person who broke my heart, and the thought of her with her new fella/(are they engaged yet? probably)
This is the fifth time the song is playing through. I haven’t even sung along yet. I hope no one notices – if they can hear it well enough – that it’s the same song again and again, and doesn’t wonder if that’s slightly weird and take that as a cue to investigate. Earlier on when I was listening to a song, I kept thinking I could hear a siren in the background. Now it feels like someone is whistling tremolo throughout. Am I developing tinnitus? That would be swell.
Give me something to believe in
So I can give you reasons
Not to keep on floating along
That’s how I feel at the moment. I need to avoid this being a mere rehashing of this morning’s post; but it’s where my mind is, and I need to deposit it somewhere. I’m unhappy. I’m floating along.
I opened a beer with my dinner. A bottle of Corona to go with a chili. The truth is, I didn’t need it. I was a bit thirsty, but I could’ve had glass of water. I’ve opened a beer because I want a beer because I’m unhappy. And I’m disappointed in myself for doing this. I’m still going to drink it. And probably another. Tonight I was supposed to light a yankee candle and begin this beautiful book, peacefully, contented. I can’t fall into this cycle again. I’m just so unhappy. If I’m going to cry anyway, I may as well be slightly (otherwise) numb, right?
Someone please take this loneliness away.