I reckon we’re building on our present with the past
Maybe we’re movin’ too much, too damn fast ...
The one she and Griff just could not get right.
The words weren’t working because she didn’t know what to say. Because she was still holding fear in her heart. And it was that fear that had her saying those angry words to Griff, that had her believing the worst. But it wasn’t the worst—it was Griff and she loved him. She still does.
The song isn’t about loving the same person you knew, it’s about loving the person they’ve turned into.
She’s made mistakes; they’ve both made mistakes, and Griff still loved her despite them.
Alabama starts fresh, a new page, and soon she’s scribbling furiously. She’s in a trance. Nothing exists except their ending. A song that’s bone-deep and aching and crying out to be heard.
An hour passes, and then another, and when she glances up her apartment is dim, but it feels brighter. She feels lit up inside, brought back to life again. That’s what Griff did to her. He made her live. Better, bolder than she ever had.
And she found herself.
Reclaimed her voice.
Her song.
Her heart.
Finished, Alabama plops back into the couch. She glances once more at the page, at a song fixed, and her soul feels mended. Stitched together with song.
With a smile, she pulls out her phone and snaps a photo.