It's Never Just Goodbye // Ed Sheeran

Are We Out of the Woods?

Ed

Looking at it now
It all seems so simple - Taylor Swift

So it goes. Days drift into nights and nights fade, and the days crash colder into winter. I was stuck in. A never ending cycle of eating, sleeping, and working. Lost in translation of how it should be in my mind, but not how it should.

I dropped her off at the airport the day I ran into Alice. Stating I needed to head back to New York for a show. She didn’t protest and packed her things. It was normal; she kissed me goodbye in the most passionate of ways and headed her way and I headed mine.

It's mid-February and she hasn't called. I knew I should, but I couldn't push myself to. Frozen in the moment of self pride and loneliness. Of thoughts about Alice and sick of fighting about distance with Nina.

January was a month of bitter arguing over the phone, then nothing at all. Just like that, she was gone. As easy as she popped up in my life, the easier it was for her to vanish out of it. She fell back into her old life in Scotland. Probably finding herself lost in work, too. Traveling the cities and performing.

I didn’t know what happened and for some reason, I didn’t want to find out.

“Fans are expecting a new album. Especially since Plus and the RED tour are officially over.” Stuart tells me. He calls me every week with the same news.

I'm lonely. Yeah, I have as much fun as I prosper when going to a bar with friends. Or when Taylor calls me and leads me into an hour long conversation about Ryan Seacrest and the horrible lives orphan cats go through. Sometimes we even hang out for the day, but that ends like everything else and I'm left alone with myself.

She doesn't talk about Harry anymore. Both of them realizing it will never work. And Taylor doesn't bring up Nina.

And the first moment I spoke to my parent’s again, the only thing my mother had to say about her was, “Nina was so sweet when I met her. She is so beautiful. Tell her I said hello.”

I never did and she never spoke of her since.

I’m still avoiding phone calls from them.

 “Okay.” I say. “How does this sound?”

Taylor is over and I'm playing her a rough copy of the song I wrote about Alice. This one is among many of others. The one I originally scratched on an old receipt and sung to her out of rage last year.

Taylor nods her head along to the beat as she does with every rough draft. She isn't smiling, only listening. Scanning over the placement of lyrics rather than the actual meaning. I can tell she's preparing something in her head.

The track ends and she says, “I love it. It's really raw. A lot of emotions, but…”

She goes on to tell me I need to show more feeling when singing the chorus instead of letting the lyrics do the entire job. If the song is full of anger, regret, longing – then I must sing with that kind of power behind the words.

Taylor sings the line quickly. Back to me. Her eyes closed, “Kind of like – I don’t love you baby…”

I agree. Recording it twice more before Taylor and I think the song is the best it’s going to get. To her, I’m still lacking emotion.

“Have you written any other possible album contenders?” she asks me.

I shrug, “All of them are too personal.”

She nods, “Once you put the song out there, it’s theirs. Not yours. You have to watch the too personal ones and keep them for yourself.”