Rather Than Hurt You
Then tonight her guitar died, or rather her connection to it. She cries at its base as it leans against the wall and listens to the out-of-tunes noises it makes when she picks it up to hold it. Wood and electronics aren't cuddly. Why doesn't it have a name? She at least loved it that much.
No more lessons. There's just one chip in the varnish. She never would have been good, but now she never will. Perhaps she could fight it. More likely she'll give up. The instrument's already become part of the wall.
It's betrayed her because she betrayed it. She hasn't played since the night before the morning she answered the phone. "Hey, Anna, this is ------. I don't want to tell you this, but I know you'd rather hear it from me." Why does that moment have to surface now? she wonders. She wants it to drown forever, to wither in the morning light until it's bleached away entirely. He and she belonged to the night.
Do you remember, Alex? This is the song I said that you would wish you had written. Find another feather for your fedora, because you did.
And all the memories of the fights and nights
Under blue lights and all the kites
We flew together
Love thought they'll fly forever
- The Libertines, "Music When The Lights Go Out"