A thousand miles seems pretty far But they’ve got planes and trains and cars I’d walk to you if I had no other way

 

Hey there Delilah
What’s it like in New York City?
I’m a thousand miles away
But girl, tonight you look so pretty

There are places in the world, of all types and all kinds. Those scenes so beautiful and breathtaking, those valleys hell-hound and horrible. Places have feelings about them, because of the memories they hold or just the eyes that see them. A simple wall can have hundred stories about it, for a hundred broken prisoners saw it, for the hundred people who could never get past it. Over and away

Yes you do
Times Square can’t shine as bright as you
I swear it’s true

But now it’s me. These are my brown eyes, watching what perhaps might be the most lonely and most beautiful thing they ever saw. I am sitting in a dimly lit lawn after dark, I see a new concrete bench in front of me, sheltered by a big tree. I see young grass growing in its feet. I see it, and my breath seems to have lost its way in my heart

Hey there Delilah
Don’t you worry about the distance
I’m right there if you get lonely
Give this song another listen

My Lord, all I can feel is that strange despair. It’s a newly built hostel I live in now. That new bench is there in front of me. I sit across it, on another fine seat, a song humming in my ears. It’s white and shining, years will pass and it will whither, pieces will fall off. Hundreds will sit and another hundred will come. Time will pass. Life will go on

Close your eyes
Listen to my voice, it’s my disguise
I’m by your side

That feeling of waiting. Just standing still in time and space because you know it. You hope. I feel that in the air hung around it, as if a place made and kept for someone who hasn’t come yet. Someone that won’t ever come. She doesn’t know that yet. Hope is there. In the young faces of the grass, in the shining innocence of the bench.

Oh it’s what you do to me
Oh it’s what you do to me
What you do to me

The tree looks down upon all those young faces, new in the path of life, new in the path of yearning. His sorrows I know not, the barrier around his soul is too strong and too wise for me to comprehend. All I know is I will never have the courage to go sit on that bench. I come and sit across it every evening and hear to the same song. But I can never just go and feel what really is there to be felt. It’s not made for me. I will not understand. Just like being in love with someone who will never see your love, because his eyes were not made for you, his heart beats would never sync to the faltering rhythm that is gonna die in you. Just like waiting for a bus which you know will already be full, and still waiting when you know you have no place to go even if one day it ever stopped  where you stood

Hey there Delilah
I’ve got so much left to say
If every simple song I wrote to you
Would take your breath away
I’d write it all
Even more in love with me you’d fall
We’d have it all

I stare at that bench for thirty long minutes untill a single tear rolls down my cheek. Before I can wipe that off my face is hit by a silent waterfall. I never knew that something so lonely could look so pure, so innocent. Something standing still in mud and dirt would move my dying heart

A thousand miles seems pretty far
But they’ve got planes and trains and cars
I’d walk to you if I had no other way
Our friends would all make fun of us
and we’ll just laugh along because we know
That none of them have felt this way
Delilah I can promise you
That by the time we get through
The world will never ever be the same
And you’re to blame

But then, you know, it might just be these brown eyes….

Hey there Delilah
You be good and don’t you miss me
Two more years and you’ll be done with school 
And I’ll be making history like I do
You’ll know it’s all because of you
We can do whatever we want to
Hey there Delilah here’s to you
This one’s for you

And all I loved, I loved alone

And so hollow does it feel. With every breath I intake I can feel my deserted insides. As if someone carved out the contents, leaving me void and vulnerable. Yes, it felt like that. I could feel the wooden shavings lying around me, chipped off from a wooden body, undoubtedly my own, so painfully my own….I might have been like this for a long time, guess I never realized it. Till the straw escaped from an unknown hole and the puppet sagged to the ground. No termite could do such meritorious a job. It was work of a human. It was no Cedar borer, nor some tanbark beetle. For it was no firewood or cedar. It was a human hollowed and it was a human artisan

I want to catch a train and move away. I want to catch a plane and fly away. I want to dig a hole and vanish away.. I want to melt away. Evaporate in front of these very trees, disappear in front of this very bench. Dissolved. Dispersed. Who am I? Care knowing? It is someone lost in the crowd ages ago, someone sitting on this wooden bench, facing the rising sun as if the yellow rays will enlighten his dark life and dying soul. As if the morning air would put some life into his faltering heart beats. As if some magic will happen. Yes. I am sitting in this deserted park, and this beautiful scene will do me no good, bring me no happiness, save me no memory to cherish, I am blind to everything but my pain, my sorrow and my agony

I breathe in the autumn air, shove off the yellow leaves fallen in my lap and get up. Reach into my pocket and take out my phone. Clinging to relations that no longer stay, places that no longer exist and feelings that no longer remain, will bring none of us any good. It takes a lot of courage to cut the strings. And I’ll save her the pain.

For maybe I was the one who loved, now I will be the one to walk away…

(Title: From Poe’s poem ‘Alone’)