Like driving along a bumpy road and losing control of the steering wheel, tossing you—just a tad—off the road. The wheels kick up some dirt, but you’re able to pull it back. Yet no matter how tightly you grip the wheel, no matter how hard you try to drive straight, something keeps jerking you to the side. You have so little control over anything anymore. And at some point, the struggle becomes too much—too tiring—and you consider letting go. Allowing tragedy…or whatever…to happen.
If my love were an ocean, there would be no more land.
If my love were a desert, you would see only sand.
If my love were a star—late at night, only light.
And if my love could grow wings,
I’d be soaring in flight.
I sat. And I thought. And the more I thought, connecting the events in my life, the more my heart collapsed.
I hope you’re ready, because I’m about to tell you the story of my life. More specifically, why my life ended. And if you’re listening to these tapes, you’re one of the reasons why.
But you can’t get away from yourself. You can’t decide not to see yourself anymore. You can’t decide to turn off the noise in your head.