there comes a time when you wake up, after weeks of thinking about it every fifteen and a half seconds.

and you want to take those pictures down, because, whilst they remind you of a far happier time in your life that feels like [and pretty much was] yesterday, ultimately they lead to one cold and dead feeling.

there comes a time when you wonder why you held on to the receipt for that ring, and for some fucking reason, you’re still putting it somewhere safe.

…why?

you meet with an ex at the weekend, someone that this never happened with, someone who you’ve always considered a friend from years back, an old war buddy from battles past. it’s amazing how the world’s changed this person, and that after all those drugs and all this time, they’re still really, really fucking cute.

No agenda, no threat, and no target, just an empty, level playing field, someone who knows what you were, and what you’ve become.

the ounce of comfort found here, helps more than you’ll ever know.

so you get the box out, both physically and mentally, and stuff as many things as you can into it, the tickets from the zoo, the receipt from the sweet, friendly little cafe on snowdon, the photo you had taken in a booth together eighteen months ago, the anniversary card that’s been stood on your bedside table for six weeks, did it all happen that fast?

You fully realise that you’re a walking, talking contradiction, but you can’t help how you feel, and for some reason, probably because you’re drunk, you think it’s a great idea to start writing about it, because maybe there’s someone out there who’s felt like this.

you told her that you understood, and that you would always be here, and you know deep down that you don’t hate her, only what’s happened.

The demons come flying out of the baggage, the ones that made you cheat on that other girl in 2005, the same ones that told you it was all your fault the band fell apart in the first place, that your parents split up, and despite all your efforts, you’ll never be able to redeem yourself and amount to anything.

And most importantly, that you will never, ever play onstage at the joiners, because you’re nobody, and you’re going nowhere, fast.

You know it’s all untrue, but the kind of mood you’re in tonight, you just dig it and go with the flow.

There comes a time when you realise that packing everything away, and hiding everything that reminds you of her, leaves you with an empty room, and robs you of the last two years of your life. you can’t win this game against insanity, but you try anyway.

you slowly realise as she tells you that there’s now someone else in her life, even though it stings like a motherfucker, that you’ve met someone that you find world-stoppingly beautiful and bewitchingly interesting,  but you’re completely unarmed and have no idea what to do about it.

You think, “this is all payback, for who I was a couple of years back, this is the universe leveling the score on me”.

Having no option, you enjoy the pain … you deserve it in a way, but at least you were in love, you know that you gave your heart to someone completely and without question, and that you didn’t slip up once.

They can never, ever, take that away from you.

You light a cigarette, and smile up at the sky, extend one arm fully, and wave your middle finger at the night sky.

There comes a time when you realise that, you’ve been asleep for two years, having a crazy mixed bag of amazing dreams that recently twisted themselves into nightmares.
You notice that it’s very very nearly 2008, and that you have an album to release, a solo EP to record, a graphic novel to write, a car to buy, a family to love, friends to cherish, and more to make.

There comes a time when you feel like you’ve been born again, to be all you can be.