This beautiful piece, Trio No. 2 in E-flat major for piano, violin, and violoncello, D. 929 by Franz Schubert was composed for the engagement party of Schubert’s school-friend, Josef von Spaun. I often wonder why I am immensely comfortable with D, I don’t want to use the word ‘love’ here because if I define love based on my definition of love which is to no longer have a hint of selfishness in it, no fear, no dependence, no jealousy nor possessiveness, then certainly what I am feeling towards D is not love. Yet I know that I am immensely comfortable with him. Is it because at most I consider him as my best friend? A friend that causes me to be at ease, relaxed, secure, safe, unworried, contented. A friend that causes me to be happy? But why? And then I understood that it is because of life. It is because he has a deep interest in life, life as a whole, life as a continuity and because life is an ever changing process, so too will our discussions, our thoughts, and ultimat...
If it's okay, I will leave the bed light on. and place your water glass where it belongs. And if it's alright, I will lie awake at night, pretending i am curled up at your side. You see how I am circling in these patterns? how I am living, out of memories? I am still a long way from accepting it, that there's just no you and me. Did I commit a crime? I won't believe that loving you was just a waste of time. or was it in my head, that I am reading into things that you never said? Because I still don't have the answers, to why we couldn't work it out. I want to think it's something that I did, so I can turn it back around. I want to convince myself, that we're perfect in every single way. As long as I can keep the truth away, from my heart. If I still believe that you love me, maybe I will survive. So I tell myself you're coming home,...
I remember the first time I heard your voice. I can still remember telling you how soothing I found it, how much it calmed me. It still does, even though you are silent, but your words are still very much alive in me. You are my home, even though the door is locked and the lights are off. It is not a choice as much as a beautiful nagging that is nearly impossible to ignore. But I am locked out, left to wander, and I have found myself here. I know I left in a childish fit, and you locked the iron gate so tightly; you had to. Therefore I was left out in the darkness, just me and the shadows that haunted me, the ones that led me away from you to begin with. You left me outside to face them. You would not let me lean on you to deal with them anymore. You are my home because you are the place I choose to return to over and over again. The place that, even it's painful, means the most. You are my home because you have made me who I am, whether you realized what you were do...
Comments
Post a Comment