The girl incapable of opening up.
The girl with scars much deeper than the ink on her skin.
The girl with nothing more to give.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes. My heart hammers between my temples. Inside, I feel like I’m shaking, but I can’t let it out. Won’t let it out.
I exhale once more and will my breath to steady in my chest.
In. Out. In. Out.
You can do this.
You’ve fought harder battles.
I’m not sure how long I stand silent, with eyes shut, but it feels like a lifetime passes before the music starts in my headphones and slowly starts to build. This time, I hear more than just the chords. I hear the tension that stirs inside them, I hear the echoes of all I’ve held back trying to get out. I hear my heart in the drumbeat.
I hear myself.
And without thinking, or analyzing, or striving for perfection, I take a breath that releases the world with it. And I just sing.
“Even if I try, every single time, dangle on the wire of this thinning thread.
All you hear’s goodbye, even if I might not want it just yet.
And we could hold on.
We could make it happen now.
We could hold on.
We could try to break us down.
But I won’t change, and you won’t budge, and we won’t be the thing I thought it was.
I won’t change, and you won’t budge, and we won’t be the thing you thought it was.
What we thought it was.
What we thought it was.
We can’t be the thing we thought this was.”
The words that come out might as well be my soul spilling open because I feel empty by the time the chorus ends. Out of breath and energy. I feel like I left myself in those lyrics. And when I open my eyes, there are three faces staring back.
Noah must have shown up while I was spilling my all into that chorus because he’s standing next to Eloise in the control room with his arms crossed over his chest. The look on his face says more than I wish it did because one expression and I see it all.
The take was perfect.
Raw.
Real.
And in his eyes, I see the words I just sang staring me in the face.
12
Noah