2 All Hail the Heartbreaker by The Spill Canvas
So this is where it all started, almost two years ago. I posted this song on Facebook, because I fucking love this song (should be obvious by its placement on the countdown) and probably also because at the time, as at many times, I felt a strong personal connection with the song. In the little status part on Facebook I wrote that this could be one of the songs in contention for my favorite song of all time, which prompted me to figure out what my actual favorite song is, and now I know what it is, and soon you will too, but for now let’s talk about this song, which was so close to making it to the top.
I guess – I’m trying to know, but for now it’s just a guess – that I don’t relate this song to any girls of my past. The closest would be Dyana, because my heart did break with her, but I don’t consider her a heartbreaker. She wants to be in love, she wants to be free, she wants to explore the deepest realms of her spiritual essence, but most of all like all of us were, or will be, or are, she was young and confused and didn’t know what she really wanted. But I know she didn’t want to hurt me. And maybe I’m wrong, but for right now I feel comfortable knowing that I’m right.
As I read over the lyrics to this song I kind of feel lucky that I don’t really have those feelings towards any of the girls of my past. Sure things didn’t always end greatly – some would argue that they never ended at all because they never even got started due to them being long distance things, and to those people I sincerely say from the bottom of my heart, “Fuck off,” although you’re probably right, but don’t tell me that – actually, this is complete bullshit, but not completely.
I want to feel like I’m the bigger person, but I’m not, I’m just passive aggressive. I can recall countless times where in my head I worded perfectly everything I wanted to say to certain girls about why they did what they did to me and how shitty it made me feel, and despite all the pain I went through how I still cared about them so deeply, and it’s the caring that kept me from speaking the truth to them…well that and I’m a huge pussy.
I don’t want to hurt them, not anywhere close to how they hurt me. I know them, that’s why I fell for them. I know that even though they hurt me that wasn’t their intention, and they feel bad for it, they just found a way to be happier without me being in their life, and it’d be crazy for them not to take the happier path just to keep me happier, because honestly if they’d be happier without me I’d want them to have that happiness. And this isn’t me being all, “woe is me, I can’t make a girl happy,” believe me, they would have been happier with me. I know I’m a complete fucking idiot because I’m a complete fucking loser in my life right now, and I have nothing going for me, so you’ll just have to trust me when I say that they would have been happier with me. But in those moments I failed at conveying to them that I was the right choice.
I’m somewhere in between. I’m sure most of us are. I love Dyana to death. If she gets married tomorrow and invites me I’m there in a heartbeat – not really because I don’t have the cash to fly out there and if I did when the priest says that thing about anyone wanting to speak now or forever hold your peace I’m gonna stand up, look like an idiot for a few seconds with my mouth agape, and then say, “I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance by switching to Geico.”
If Annabelle gets married tomorrow I kill myself – No I don’t of course…because we haven’t talked in months so I’d have no way of knowing she was getting married. It’s so hard for me to get mad at Annabelle. I’m not sure why. We never had a fight. With everyone else I had a lot of fights, but with her things were different somehow. I’m not sure why. That’s not important though. Here I am missing her when she left me after saying that she was going to be with me, that we were going to make things work and be with each other somehow someway, and now she doesn’t have the same number and I have no way of knowing what’s going on in her pretty little head, and shouldn’t I be mad at her for all of this?
I don’t really know what I’m writing about right now.