so you came to me, looking for someone to make you feel better.

I tried to be there for you. Just because... it's the right thing to do. And I do have a duty to those near to me.

But sometimes I wonder... if you stop to help everyone who's stuck in the mud, can you ever truly fly?

Intellectually, I'd say I'm no less stuck in the mud than anyone else; I probably just don't realise it.

But it's there; I can't help but feel that:

I was there for you. Who will be there for me?

God will be there for me. And for you too, should you choose to seek Him...(I probably should remind you.)

and then somehow it doesn't feel enough.

Maybe I don't know enough of God. I haven't committed myself enough to studying His word.

Nobody really knows enough of God.

So I'm really not that big on faith, then.

I do my thing alone. Have always done. And God has always watched my back, for there's been times, and always will be, when there are none else to do it for me.

But sometimes... it gets lonely

I'm more of a loner than most. I enjoy my time to myself, perhaps more than most. And I'm not one to tie myself down to anything where I don't have a way out without hurting myself.

Unless it means that much to me.

My music meant that much to me; I fear it doesn't anymore.


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and the world is silenced, and the ground disappears from under his feet, and he finds himself instantly all alone in pitch;

and you hammer down on your last and lowest note with all your might and hold it burning as long as you can, as if it were your last thread of hope, as if your life depended on it. And you never let go.

Exactly as you know the hero of your tale would do. For him, there is no choice but life, and there is no rest until the job is done.