I have always surrounded myself with music. It’s been one of my only true friends ever since I was born; it is my passion. Music never lies; maybe songwriters and composers aren’t honest to themselves, and that is what happens with songs that are terribly bad.
Normally, depending on how I feel, I listen to one genre or another. About a month ago, I felt really numb, so I let YouTube choose for me. One song, then another, then another… until Melanie Martinez’s Pity Party played.
I instantly stopped doing everything, just to listen, to apprehend. She has… one of the sweetest voices I’ve ever heard and, hell, she does transmit a lot. I listened to each and every of her songs, and I felt incredibly self-compassionate. I was Cry Baby; the fictional character created by her in her songs.
I haven’t lived an easy life, but I’ve always coped with it; parents divorced after my birth, father deserted, mother worked 16/7, so I had no choice but to grow up. Nobody ever warned me of the dangers of being nice to everyone; life gave me its lesson, and I interpreted it as ‘hide your heart deep inside you, and nobody will ever be able to hurt you’. Thus, I locked my emotions, with seven locks.
Since then, I’ve had nobody to trouble with my problems, except for Paper & Pen. They’ve been great friends to me. So, when I had thought I had been able to seal away all my problems within my friends and myself, Melanie comes directly breaking through all barriers and straight to the heart.
I thought it just had to happen; I closed YouTube and kept working. But I realized something was wrong because, days after, when winter holidays came, the sadness hadn’t faded yet. In fact, every day I grew more sad and confused. So I opened the locket where I hid the key to my feelings, and took Paper & Pen for a ride. That’s what I always did when I felt confused. I set my feelings free; I felt them flowing from the darkest cavity in my inner being, through my fingers. I let Pen play with Paper; I let words draw emotions.
And when I finally realized what was going on, I dropped Pen, horrified, I cried: “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”, and Paper immediately obeyed, I desperately grabbed the key to my emotions and tried to lock everything deep inside again, but the locks had been destroyed by the maelstrom; emotions had already taken over me. As always. That’s why I had put the locks in the first place.
I remember thinking that, if hell on Earth really existed, then I had just opened the very gates.
I… I didn’t know human beings could have such masochist feelings.
I’m slowly dying since then.
I feel extremely sad, but I don’t want really want to stop this sadness. It’s the most beautiful kind of sadness I’ve ever experienced. It’s pleasure and pain, both united in a horrible, but addicting, bittersweet sensation. (it somewhat reminds me of Lithium, by Evanescence – you’ll understand why) Forbidden love. A love that could never be.
I had fallen in love with Melanie, or, at least, with her sadness, with the meaning behind every word. I had always thought that twin souls didn’t exist; that one had to forge his twin soul in a relationship, with time, effort, patience. I had found the exception to the “rule”, and it was unreachable.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I wanted to keep feeling this way. I still don’t know. I’m going mad.
But all the best people are crazy.
So I wrote. And I’ll keep writing. Beautiful stories. Sad stories. Weird stories. Songs. Poems. Whatever stops my feelings from spilling. That is how Dream Craver was born.
Perhaps one day, when I gather enough strength, I’ll finish the story I began writing that damned night. And I truly hope, that some day, she will read this post. Then we will talk, and this nightmare will be finished forever.
For I am just Dream Craver, and I’ll never stop looking for dreams, be they good or bad.
Welcome to hell. This, is my story.
P.S: If you ever feel the need to contact me, you can follow me on Twitter (@DreamCraver) or write to email@example.com. I respond to every single e-mail and tweet.