Teardrops On My Guitar

Drew looks at me,

i fake a smile so he won't see

that i want, & i'm needing everything that we should be.

i'll bet she's beautiful, that girl he talks about,

& she's got everything that i have to live without.

Drew talks to me,

i laugh cause it's so damn funny,

that i can't even see anyone when he's with me.

he says he's so in love, he's finally got it right.

i wonder if he knows he's all i think about at night.

he's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar,

the only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star.

he's the song in the car i keep singing,

don't know why I do.

Drew walks by me, can he tell that i can't breathe?

& there he goes, so perfectly,

the kind of flawless i wish i could be.

she'd better hold him tight, give him all her love.

look in those beautiful eyes and know she's lucky, cos.

he's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar,

the only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star.

he's the song in the car i keep singing,

don't know why i do.

so i drive home alone, as i turn out the light,

i'll put his picture down,

& maybe get some sleep tonight.

cos he's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar,

the only one who's got enough of me to break my heart.

he's the song in the car i keep singing,

don't know why i do.

he's the time taken up, but there's never enough,

& he's all that i need to fall into..

Drew looks at me,

i fake a smile so he won't see.

Teardrops On My Guitar

Taylor Swift

this song really struck a chord with me, the first time i'd heard it. perhaps it brought back all-too-raw memories of not-too-long-ago, perhaps it was seeing what i felt out in words for the whole world to hear. there's something about seeing something so intimate put into words and a tune that a few million people listen to, perhaps even identify with. it puts things into perspective, doesn't it. that my experience of pain & hurt isn't so unique, isn't so solely mine - by virtue of its being felt by so many people, people i don't know of. & yet, no one experience is ever the same; some nuance here and there exists to differentiate my experience from Sally's or Jane's.

unrequited love hurts. it hurts like crap. i wouldn't know if it's the same as that of a break-up, i've never been through one. but i can tell you that it just eats right into you and makes you feel lousy about yourself. well, i felt lousy about myself. i look back at the me of exactly one year ago and wish i could reach out a hand and touchl that me. i'd tell me that everything was gonna be all right - & the me of last year wouldn't believe a single word. i'd tell me that she was gonna be happy in a year's time, that all the nonsense would be left behind.

i still have those days when i imagine things and get terrorized by the very same pictures from my fancy. it makes me sick to my stomach and i wonder at what's wrong with me. then i bury myself in my pillows and blanket and burrow into my bed, shutting thoughts out with sleep. but dreams, they scare me sometimes too, and i wake up unrested and wanting to burst into furious tears of frustration.

perhaps you can understand then, why i would rather not do anything. why i would rather spend lazy Saturday afternoons at home in the refuge of my own room instead of having to take in a deep breath and face my demons in the world outside.

the song in the car i keep singing.