Last weekend I wrote a song, the first I’ve written in over 10 years. I think it’s rather beautiful, in a sad way. Because as well as sadness there is also a strength and a knowledge that the pain will be over one day.
It is exactly the sort of song I had been hoping that other people had already written (I know, I know, laziness!), and expresses something that is personal to me and yet I hope universal enough to speak to others too.
It is intensely satisfying to bring something into the world that wasn’t there before. Something that is small, and flawed, but has a strange feeling of inevitability – like it was waiting to be written. It is strangely exciting to know that there is another 2 1/2 minutes of music in the world because of me!
In my mind I have a cycle of about seven songs, charting the journey of recovery that I have been on. I don’t know whether I’ll be able to write them all, but I’d like to try. I’ve already written about the difficulties of writing the sort of accompaniment I would like to write for heartsong.
The song I wrote at the weekend is the first song of the cycle, and it speaks for the time when I first told my friends we were splitting up. When I was sad but strangely calm, still too much in shock to realise the full extent of the heartbreak in store. A calm from which waves of yearning and loss would suddenly swell up and overwhelm me – I’ve written these waves into the song.
I’ll post a recording of it in the next few days to give you an idea what it sounds like. Meanwhile, here are the words:
It is all over…
I can’t believe it.
How can all the love we shared
I’m sure it’s better
To end it cleanly
And yet how I long to call him – as if that could
Make it better.
My heart is broken
But not my spirit
And one day I’m sure this pain
Will be over
But how it hurts!