There was something about the city that crept into me, seeping into my pores and filling me with an insatiable desire for more. Saturday night came quickly, and already the memory of the morning had faded. Forgotten, but not entirely forgiven. There was a shadow across Anthony's face whenever he caught my eye.
I told my friends I needed a night to myself, which went against everything I stood for. Nights were for partying, getting too drunk or too stoned, so that the city lights blurred and the pain of nothing disappeared.
My room in Lower Chelsea was less of a bedroom and more of a studio than anything. There I could shut the door and be myself, or anyone, really. The walls had been specially insulated to soundproof, and I had dropped countless sum of money on recording devices. Closing the shades to block out the last of the sun, I sat down before my electric keyboard and began to play.
Usually music was my escape, but just then I was too overwhelmed for even that. Writing shitty love songs like everybody else. I needed something to set me apart. I needed to be different.
Sure, Anthony and I had been through a lot. And we were expected to be together, werent we? But something was missing. It felt so fake, so forced.
Maybe that was a part of life. Me, Anthony, that guy at the coffee shop...We were all only people. We all had a story of our own, a tragedy, maybe. We could all burn, kill, fear, love, fuck, die.
We could all fight. Fight for something worth believing in. Like the music.
What I needed was to sit back and relax. All the stress was killing me.
[The Average, Breathe Electric]