This was someone else's story. Someone else's life. Maybe even just another breakup song written by a bored teenager. But still, I felt the hopelessness of it. I listened, and listened, and listened. All I could hear was pain, and longing. Suffering. Somehow I could relate. In one way or another, I always could. My whole life, it seemed, was built of painful memories. Oh, yes. I could indeed relate with any sad song these so-called writers could produce. One of my all-time favourites was Why, by Secondhand Serenade. To this, I related my life in a different way. It could be tied to so many people. So many friends, that had come and gone. So many lonely nights, wasted by the telephone. I eventually gave up. On just about everything but life, though that resistance was slowly fading. It had even been broken once or twice. Today was an Owl City/Secondhand Serenade day. I left my ipod on shuffle, and sat by the window, just listening. Watching the trees bend to the will of the wind, and the force of the rain. Then Pretend began to play. This song had always picked me up, if only a little, but not today. My mind was too wrapped in darkness to care, and my heart too broken to listen any longer. I shut myself away from the world, leaning my head against the cold glass. Waiting for nothing at all. I closed my eyes and my ears, and allowed no light to enter my mind. It was my time. Time to be alone. Time to enjoy the quiet. Time to just forget the world, if only for a moment. Then the seal was broken, and music entered my thoughts. Mad World by Gary Jules. Somehow I had added it to the playlist, and now it entered my mind, twisting through every corner of my world until it was all I could hear, see, smell, taste, and touch. Everything was light blue, then green, then blue again, the colours swirling around the room in harmony with the music. A thousand emotions passed through me at once, but only one lingered. Only one stayed, long after the others had gone. The colours ceased to swirl, and slowly faded into black, then red. Pain shot through my heart, electrifying my body. I opened my eyes, and laughed aloud at nothing at all. Leaning in towards the glass, I pushed my forehead against it, and sighed. My hands had been empty moments ago, but now my fingers were curled tightly around a small, cold, shining object. Steel and wood combined, skillfully crafted by hand. My absolute favourite possession. As I held it in my hand I loosened my grip, and looked at it, smiling pitifully. It seemed to be calling to me- Begging me to use it again. It had been nearly ten weeks since I had, and I was beginning to miss it, along with the feeling it gave me. Hope had been holding out until today. I wanted to give in, to call it quits, as failing was inevitable. I knew I'd break sooner or later, so why not now? There didn't seem to be a point in holding out any longer. What did I have to lose? My friends, it seemed, had deserted me, and the one person in my family who cared was dealing with problems of her own. All I had to lose was my record. Ten weeks was no big deal, I told myself. And so it wasn't. I had gone too long carrying this burden. Way too long, carrying the burdens of a hundred other people. Why couldn't they just listen once in a while? No, it wasn't their fault. I never really felt good about complaining, with the exception of an occasional breakdown. I never cried, and smiled as much as I possibly could, so they almost never bothered to ask. And when they did, I promised that everything was fine. One of the biggest lies I could have ever told. So now I sat here, pondering the consequences. Or rather, the consequence. I could only find one fault with this stress relief. And that was, the chance that my tolerance level may become to high. Could possibly be proven fatal, but I was just beyond the point of caring. What the heck, I told myself. And I had never felt so great. Arms were useless, but legs were not. Another canvas to set upon, to make me smile. Hopelessness had never been so inviting, welcoming, enjoyable. Giving up had never felt so good. I couldn't cry. Not now, not any time soon. The tears that fixed themselves behind my eyes slowly pushed their way into my veins, pouring out in every direction as I gave them a chance to escape. I laughed again, as my worries came forth from my skin. Every lie, every broken promise, every long, cold day, spent alone. It was all behind me, as was my record. Everything turned warm, as I sat on the window seat, my life painted the most beautiful shade of red. Black and grey no longer, I felt free. It's funny, how months of pain can be broken, destroyed, in such a small period of time. Who knew giving up could be so wonderful?