I’m not much of a crier. It really doesn’t happen often, even when I’m wrapped in PMS emotions. Never. I think that, instead of crying, I sing. I write songs that enable me to sing things out of my heart.

I’ve decided that I don’t wanna hear my vocal tracks from the week in Oregon. I had a minute to remember the intense process of recording, and I realized that I don’t wanna go there again. The emotion of the songs unexpectedly wrecked my heart. I wasn’t prepared for how much of myself I gave to each song. All of me. ALL of me. And I know that I’ll be able to hear it in each cut.

Remembering some of the lyrics, I realized that the past few years I’ve written my way through the tears:

In this life if we love it we will lose it but its better if we choose it
Than to hold it ‘til its torn away.
In this life letting go does not come easy but to love in sight of losing
Bears the promise of the greatest pain.

It’s been fifteen years.
Of fifteen tears
I’ve got no more fears
I’ll runaway I’ll runaway

You’re my port in the storm
You’re my something right when it all goes wrong
You’re my ray of light when the night wears on and on

The road of good intentions is paved with regret.
I’ve walked a mile of forgiveness and still can’t find the next
Bend in the road.
But we both know
But nothing ever stays the same.

From the outside lookin in
I feel I’ve lost those things about me
That were bright are growin dim
unmistakable unbounding

There’s too much in all that. In the rise and fall of the melody. In the hopelessness breathed out as I sing it. In the strings and keys and rhythms holding up these words.

It’d be like watching yourself have a crying fit… Would you want to do that?