Hey all. Sooooo I’m a little addicted to the girl-band The Veronicas at the moment. 🙂 And so here goes with another lyrics post…
TRACK is called “Mouth Shut”…love it.
I kept my mouth shut from the start.
I guess I left you in the dark.
You thought you knew me, but you don’t.
You say you’ll love me, but you won’t…
When you find out who I am.
I kept my mouth shut for too long.
All this time you got me wrong.
Now we’re in this way too far–
I’m about to break your heart.
Tear everything we had apart.
‘Cause I’m feeling lost…
When I’m in your arms.
The reasons are gone,
For why I was holding on to you.
I tried so hard.
To be the one.
I didn’t like who I’d become.
Won’t keep my mouth shut anymore.
I’ve had my share of closing doors.
Now I know I’m not afraid,
I know exactly what you’ll say.
But I’m sorry, it’s too late.
(I kept inside of me, for all this time)
Yeah yeah, yeah yeah
(Thought that I could make it work, if I just tried)
Yeah yeah, yeah yeah
(But I’m sorry to admit that I have lived a lie)
I kept my mouth shut for too long.
Now I know that it was wrong.
I wish I told you from the start.
That this was never meant to last.
We should’ve never gone this far…
Won’t keep my mouth shut anymore.
So yeah, I just love the lyrics from this band. They’re so relatable, you know? They fit perfectly. Or seem to anyhow.
Anyways…life is good at the moment. A little hectic, but good nevertheless. The semester is winding down, which is a good thing. The only downside to it all is that there’s going to be so much to do and cram in these last few weeks. But it’ll all sbe over soon and the break will be here before I know it. I soooo cannot wait for summer. I’m in dire need of some fun in the sun, that’s for sure. Literally. I need to get some color…desperately. Though I doubt that’s going to happen. It sucks being so fair-skinned. I’m so jealous of those people that can go out in the sun for 5 minutes and come away with a gorgeous tan–whereas I can go out wearing the highest SPF sunblock known to man and still end up with a sunburn. I don’t tan. I get burnt, peel, and go right back to being pasty white again. Grrr, it’s frustrating. And don’t even get me started with freckles. So yeah, it sucks. But, such is my life.
Still haven’t decided yet whether or not I’m going to accept the internship in NYC. I don’t have to decide right this second though, so I guess I’ll figure it out over the next couple of weeks. I kind of want to stick around home this summer–have a nice, relaxing break with family and friends. I’ve been going non-stop this past year, what with school and work and whatnot. I haven’t really had much down-time and as for having a life–what’s that even? It’s been so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like. I managed to squeeze in a little fun a couple weekends ago though. A couple of my girlfriends and I went out for our friend’s 25th birthday. It was fun. It was like a whole day set aside just for us girls. We went shopping, did lunch, and got ourselves a little pampered during the day, then went out that night. We did dinner at this nice Hiabachi restuarant. It was my first time at a place like that [mainly because of my intense dislike of anything seafood or sushi related] buttttt I have to say, it was pretty entertaining. The saki part especially. 🙂 We got a limo for the night and so after dinner, we all went out dancing and for some drinks to celebrate. It was fun. A little educational even–as it turns out that my alcohol tolerance isn’t at all what it used to be. But then again I don’t go out much, if at all, these days–so I guess it’s to expected. Hopefully that’s the reason–otherwise I think I’m just getting old. Ahh, maybe it’s both.
It was a lot like old times, actually. A little drunken heart-to-heart conversation with my best friend included. We haven’t had one of those in a long time, so it was refreshing. It’s so corny and maybe a little odd even–but I do so love those talks. Sometimes I think it’s actually easier to do the talking once we’ve had some of that “liquid courage”–than when we’re completely sober. Anyhow, the two of us probably looked like a couple of dorks sitting outside some bar just baring our souls out to one another. There were even some tears at some point–though I couldn’t for the life of me tell you what they were for or what had caused them. I doubt either one of us really remembers much about that conversation. But that’s nothing new, to either of us. It’s what we do. I do, however, know that we talked about the situation a couple years back. By that, I’m referring to the year we didn’t speak to one another. It’s something we don’t talk about. Ever. It’s like the elephant in the room, so to speak. I think the main reason we don’t talk about it is simply for the fact that it brings up painful memories–for the both of us. Personally, I don’t like talking about what happened. Or even thinking about it, for that matter. I’d prefer rather to think that none of it ever happened. It’s easier that way. But obviously, it did happen. I did those things. I shut everyone out. I cut off all contact with my friends for that year. Me. I did that. It wasn’t anyone else. A lot happened in that year. A lot changed. Her. Me. We both went through some pretty tough stuff. Even though it’s over and done with, I still feel a little guilty for not being there. From what she’s said–she definitely could have used me being there for some of it. And I should have been there. But I wasn’t. I can’t go back. I can’t change what happened. Or the decisions that were made. It’s done. All I can do is learn from all of it so I don’t ever make that mistake again, or put myself in the kind of situation where I have to make decisions like the ones I made.
And I think I’ve done that–learned from it, I mean. At the very least, I’ve done a lot of growing up as a result of what happened. I’m not the naive, foolish 22-year-old that I was then. I’m not easily swayed anymore by pretty words. I’m far more guarded than I was then. Untrusting. I have a completely different perspective on life. But all in all–I’ve accepted the fact that everything happens for a reason. Everything. I know now that the hell I went through the past three years wasn’t in vain. Granted, it took a long time–but I think I’ve finally found the closure that I’ve been so desperately looking for. With him. With what happened. But mostly–with myself.
Speaking of closure–a few friends and I went to a tarot reading last night. We had like a 4 hour session and simply put…it was amazing. To be honest, I was a little apprehensive about even going. It wasn’t that I was skeptical about it or anything like that. I’m actually very into tarot and all that wiccan stuff. I always have been. I think it’s real. At the very least, it’s possible. I actually bought my own deck a couple years ago, but aside from sleeping with the deck under my pillow for a week like you’re supposed to–I haven’t really done much else with them. My family thinks I’m crazy for buying into it all. My grams is the biggest skeptic I think, out of all of them. She calls it “Devil Worship.” I, of course, disagree. She hates it when the subject comes up about it–so we usually end up having some pointless argument about religion when that happens. And she definitely doesn’t like it when I say that I don’t believe in God. I think she thinks I’m just being stubborn–and that I only say things like that for the sole purpose of pissing her off. She’s always saying that she can’t believe I’d say such “blasphemous” things when I’d been going to church since I was a baby. I just grew out of it, I guess you could say. And tired of people shoving religion down my throat and constantly telling me how I should do what the Bible says I should. Yeah…I don’t think so. I’d rather have my own beliefs, thank you very much.
Anyhow….the tarot reading. Part of the reason for why I didn’t want to go last night is because of a reading I had done a couple years ago. The person told me I’d had one of the darkest spreads she had ever seen. Ummm, thanks a lot Tarot lady. She didn’t do the greatest job, but it wasn’t the worst. She got a couple of things right–one being the situation with him. She was really blunt about it, too. She drew the Devil card for him–which apparently wasn’t a good thing. She told me flat out that he was going to wreck me–warning me to stay the hell away from him. Well…turns out she was more on the mark than I had thought. He did wreck me. But I wrecked myself even more…because I knew. I didn’t need some cards or a complete stranger to tell me what I had known from the beginning. But still, I guess I should have heeded her warning. If only I had…everything would be so different. Maybe.
Last night’s reading wasn’t at all like my that one though. The guy’s actually legit. He’s certified. And he’s good. He was dead on with every single one of us. It sounds crazy, but he was. So much so that I literally had goodbumps a few different times. He was that good. The session itself was pretty funny actually. The poor guy had to give readings to five chicks who all wanted to know about their love life. Poor guy. The reading was intense, to say the least. He brought up HIM right away–which I’d had no intention of speaking about. In fact, I don’t think I’ve even thought about him in months, which is really wierd–but it’s all up to the cards, I guess. He described him perfectly, oddly enough. He said things like how HE was a lot older than me. How it wasn’t a great relationship…and that it ended badly. All of which was true. He even knew how long ago everything happened…which is pretty effin crazy because I hadn’t told him anything whatsoever. In those aspects–he got it right. As for the other aspect that came next–I’m not so sure. He asked if I had any unresolved questions about the relationship that I wanted to ask. Honestly, all I really wanted to ask was for him to change the subject and reshuffle the cards or something–but for the hell of it, I asked him whether any of it was real. Whether HE had cared at all–or if I really was nothing more than his f-buddy–a question that I’m sure pretty sure I already have the answer to. It was a pointless question either way. I mean, at this point I just don’t care. I’m over it. I moved on. I’m with someone else and I’m happy. That was a completely different life then. A life I have no intention of EVER revisiting, for that matter. Anyhow, according to the cards, it wasn’t like that. According to the cards–it WAS real and it DID mean something. HA- yeah right. He was dead-on again when he said the cards were telling him that HE had had someone else–and that he still had had feelings for her. He even predicted that they’d been together for a long time, and that they’d been together since they were young. All of which is true. The one thing that I still have my doubts with–is when the guy said that it had meant something and that HE actually felt somewhat guilty for what happened. Yeah, um…I just find that really hard to believe–the feeling guilty part especially. Maybe I’m wrong, but I honestly don’t think he ever felt guilty for what he did, not even for a minute. Nor do I believe that he ever cared or had any feelings for me–despite whatever the cards might have said. I’m sorry, but I just don’t believe it.
I mean–if he’d cared, even for one minute, then he never would have done the things he did, right? That’s just simple logic. He never would have said what he did or hurt me like he did. He never would have smeared my reputation or convinced everyone I was nothing more than some back-road, late-night slut. He wouldn’t have dragged me into court with his lies. If he’d cared, he wouldn’t have stood there, watching, hell–GRINNING–while I was standing there crying after being thoroughly humiliated by him–in public no less! I’m no love expert, but you sure as hell don’t care about a person and then turn around and try to have that person sent to jail for 6 months. That’s just…it’s messed up.
For the record, THAT was the turning point for me. The day he tried to get me for violating a court order–when I’d done nothing wrong. Yeah. That’s the day I decided to let it all go and for it to be all over. What’s so ironic is that up until that point, I was okay with what had happened. I’d moved on. I still cared, but not in the way that I once had. And I think I could have forgiven him…at that point. I don’t know. All I know–and all that mattered– was the exact moment when I saw him for who he truly was. When I realized that I didn’t love him at all whatsoever–and more important–that I didn’t WANT to love him anymore. It was outside the courthouse that day, walking to the car and crying my eyes out–he was across the street walking to his car and he looked over at me…and smirked. THAT was the moment. I’ll never forget that moment for as long as I live. I realized then what I suspected all along–that he was actually ENJOYING what he was doing–that he was getting off on hurting me. For a long time, I was so convinced that it was all her doing. That she was making him say and do all those things. In hindsight, I was just making excuses for him. I guess I just didn’t want to believe that it was him and that he was capable of being so cruel. But I realized that day–after what he did–that it wasn’t her forcing him to do anything. It was all him. I realized that then. And in that moment–I truly hated him. With everything in me…I hated him. So yeah. The tarot guy might have been right about the rest…but the bit about him caring and feeling guilty–not a chance. You’d have to have a conscience for that! And when the guy asked if I wanted to know whether he and I would ever get back together or if I wanted to know if we could somehow be friends somewhere down the road–I told him HELL NO flat-out. My friends laughed and the guy was just like umm, alright then. While I hadn’t meant to be so blunt, I just meant that I didn’t and don’t care what the cards might have had to say about it because I already know that it’s not going to happen. Ever. Even if I did still have any feelings for him–which I honestly just don’t–it still wouldn’t happen. Too much has happened. Too many lines have been crossed. Too much hurt caused. It’s an unfortunate thing to say, but I can’t forgive him. I’ve tried to, I really have. But I just can’t. Every time I try–all I can picture is his face and that day and the cold, unfeeling look in his eyes. It’s as though all the good moments and good memories are ruined by all the pain and the hurt and the ugly words and accusations. I think of him and I remember the secret and the truth and all that I had to give up because of him–and for that alone, I’ll never forgive him. He took too much. Destroyed too much.
Anyhow, I think I’m going to try the past-life regression hypnosis next. Should be interesting.
‘Til next time…