Even Heroes Have Scars

[87] Dancing With the Devil

Ansley's P.O.V.

~ March 27, 2018 ~

A great sadness bombarded me as I sat on the plane to leave Demi. It was always hard, even if I knew I'd be seeing her again soon. And since I'd be meeting with May only an hour after landing, I wanted to hold onto this emotion, hoping I could utilize it for songwriting purposes. I had a three hour flight, but I was jumping back an hour by the time I landed due to the time zone difference.

I spent the flight looking through pictures and videos of us on my phone, reminiscing of the good old days when things seemed easier. Now everyone was stretched so thin that it was hard to enjoy much. We all had our own problems, and seeing each other was the only break (sometimes) from the pain. I imagined how it would feel tonight to sleep without Demi. Of course, I hadn't slept with her last night either. I recalled that feeling of when she would barely speak to me before falling asleep. All of that together gave me so much sadness that I needed to get the ideas down. Opening my Notes app on my phone, I began to write:

I'm not ready to say goodnight
I try and hold on tight
'cause it's just not time to say goodnight
These eyes are closed again for yet another night

I didn't know where I was going with this, but writing did help, so I continued writing any lines that came to mind, even when I thought about the feeling I had earlier today, dreading this inevitable end:

I'll face my fear of the evening
That's when you're torn away from me
I feel you leaving

Lines were missing in between, but I didn't care; May would help me with that later.

I accidentally swiped away from this note and came across one I'd written two years ago, almost three. It was a poem, maybe even a song. It wasn't that good, 'cause it was only the first song or poem I'd ever written. The piece was depressing, because I was in a dark place when I wrote it, clinging onto the last drop of hope I had. I'd just gotten sober, and the withdrawal was killing me slowly. But I was trying to be happy and grateful for this chance to start my life back:

Almost put away
for a crime I didn't commit
Didn't wanna save myself
but I was desperate
Struggling in a life, yeah,
a place that I don't fit
I just wanted out
but that was too hard to admit

So now I'm laying here,
thinking 'bout all the benefits
Remembering what I could've lost
if I'd gone through with it

I would'a missed my first kiss
I wouldn't have learned how to drive
I never could've graduated
If I wasn't still alive

So maybe I'm just grateful
Maybe I'm just so glad
For all the beautiful
Things that my life's had

Hard to believe how far I'd come. I didn't want to continue writing that poem, but I definitely wanted to continue what I wrote on the flight. I was beyond inspired at this point. I couldn't wait for this flight to end, so I could meet May and work on the song I'd written about missing Demi. May offered for me to meet them at their house, but I texted them as soon as I landed to meet me at my apartment, because it felt perfect to write about this feeling in my bedroom, the place where I felt this emotion the most.

We sat together on my bed as soon as they arrived, and I pulled out my phone to show them what I'd written. "What do you think?" I asked them after they finished reading it.

They smiled. "This is good. This is very good. I've got so many ideas."

They pulled a notepad out of their bag and began writing my lines down but in varying orders and inserting some of their own lines. I grabbed my guitar from the corner to help with the melody. We both bounced around ideas, talking about how terrible it felt to be alone in a cold bed, how much I craved the intimacy, and how much I hated the mornings of the days we would be separating. I was never ready to say bye to Demi, but I always had to anyway. And anytime we said bye again, we would get to see each other again, followed by yet another separation.