Terminology:
Mark: The key or lock that symbolizes a Dominant or submissive
Soul band: the black band under the Mark that will show the name of the soul mate once they have Connected
Connect: The moment when two people touch and they feel and realize they are soul mates
Claiming: Occurs during a time of great intimacy and opens the emotional bonds between soul mates, bringing them into the ultimate relationship between soul mates
Another time jump and ….. Blaine…. And (drumroll please)…. The MARK… and some angst
Last time…
Kurt enjoyed every moment. There was nothing more tying him down. He was finally able to trust people and tell his stories without fear. He was free.
. . . . . . . .
Journal,
The end of my first year at Parsons is upon me! It has been a year of ups and downs, but I am so happy to confess there are so many more ups then downs. I have been remiss in keeping up the journal I dedicated to my new life. Shame on me! I am passing all of my classes with honors. I have two beautiful dresses that will show in the Parsons run-way show during Fashion Week! Can you believe it, Journal? Me! Kurt Elizabeth Hummel has garments going to Fashion Week. I can barely say it without flailing like a mad man. Maybe my label will be Kurt Elizabeth Designs or KEH Designs or Kurt Hummel Originals. Who knows, but I will have to choose soon because I am a full on designer now!
I am also part of a nationally recognized band that has new, updated equipment and instruments. We have a solid spot at the Laughing Kitty every weekend and we have had guest spots at several hot New York clubs. During Spring Break we played at a huge music festival in Manhattan where people paid actual money to hear us perform! It is a dream come true for a fledgling band. And, be still my fluttering heart, Dani is in talks with a well-known band that is looking for a group to open for them over the summer! Can you believe it?! Kurt Hummel, rock star, fashion designer to the stars. It can and will happen, I believe it.
Blaine still posts the occasional video, asking for forgiveness and wanting contact. At least that's what Jeff tells me. I have never responded and stopped watching them after my bout with insomnia and nightmares. Jeff tells me Blaine seems to be moving on and posts more about his music classes than he does about me. I couldn't be more grateful.
Then there is Elliot. What can I say? I love him. He is everything to me. He is my best friend. He is my mentor – he has taught me so much about fashion and the intricacies of the fashion world – I am so glad he was assigned to me. He is my muse. He is my heart.
He is also my lover. Almost? We are like… three-quarter lovers? Okay, journal, I'll just lay it out there… We haven't had full on penetrative sex. There I said it. Why? I have no idea. We are just happy with the way things are. We have explored every inch of each other's bodies with hands and mouths. He is mouth-watering. I discovered I quite enjoy rimming. Elliot has perfected his deep throating skills. It is a good trade off.
The other night I had him sobbing in the shower. He was face-planted on the wall of the shower with his ass sticking out. I nibbled up his long legs, biting behind his knees with just the right amount of pressure to make him whimper and shudder. Up and up I went until I reached that perfect, round ass. I breathed hotly against his skin then I skipped over it all together, stood and began from his neck and made my way back down. Did he curse at me! I chastised him and threatened to stop my exploratory exercises if he swore again, grinning madly behind him, of course. He quieted down to soft whimpers so I continued. I dragged my tongue down his spine, massaging his hips as I approached his ass. By this point all I could hear was a litany of 'Kurt, please' and lots of 'ung!' and 'ahh!'. It was practically musical. Finally, I had my goal in front of me. This was the kind of kneeling I could get behind. (Journal, did you see the play on words? Kneeling? Behind? LMAO) Anyway, so there I was, his magnificent ass in front of me. At this point, I usually eased my way in delicately, all polite, modest movements because until I really got into it I tended to be embarrassed. Not this time. I wanted to break him. So I did. I grabbed his cheeks hard, digging in a bit with my nails, opened him wide and dove in like it was the last meal of my life. He shrieked and bucked back against me as my tongue speared right into his tight hole. He tasted clean and hot and so very Elliot. Delicious. I tongue-fucked him, then licked from the back of his balls all the way up to the dimples above his ass. Before he could breathe from his last broken scream, I sucked at his hole before licking into him, moaning and growling against him. Apparently it was the right amount of vibration and sensation because the next thing I knew he was wailing and coming untouched onto the shower wall. I felt his ass muscles contract against my mouth and grabbed my cock, stroked half a dozen times and came hard. It was glorious. Before I knew it, I wasn't alone on the shower floor. Sweet Elliot was a mewling, moaning mess and I loved every second of it. *sigh* It was perfect, Journal.
Now, the need for a cold shower aside, is our lack of penetrative (cocks, not tongue, wink wink) sex due to the issue of soul mates? Maybe. Elliot hasn't spoken of how he feels about our intimate life in comparison to his and Declan's.
I know everything else about their relationship now and it was a beautiful thing. Such harmony and a true partnership. It was inspiring to hear and broke my heart for Elliot. I feel blessed by whoever does the blessing around here, to be the one who gets to have his love.
Elliot has never hinted about going all the way and neither have I. Maybe full on sex is too much for him because his soul mate is gone. I'm okay with that, really. I am COMPLETELY satisfied, Journal, have no fear of that. Wink, wink. No worries. We'll see what the future holds.
Other big news! Max, our beloved drummer and over-protective friend, has found his soul mate! Tristan is such a sweetheart! They met at a dance club and I guess it was love at first sight and when they touched on the dance floor, they felt the Connection. I am so happy for them both. The amusing part is seeing them together. Tristan is a tiny little thing and next to Max, he practically disappears. Nowadays, his favorite place is in Max's lap – even when he's drumming – and the two of them are so happy you can't help but smile when you see them. I couldn't be more thrilled. They really are perfect for each other, even aside from my view on the whole soul mate thing. We held a party for them soon after they found each other. Tristan is so shy, but we finally got him to loosen up. Now it's like he has always been a part of our little family. He is on roadie duty for the band, which he really enjoys doing. He has also been accepted by my fully grown Cosette as another uncle, so he must be a good guy.
I signed up for my own Facebook account finally a couple months back. I blocked Blaine first thing, so now I'm free to interact with no fear of sad, creepy videos.
The best part of this life of mine is love. The second is freedom. I am free of any restrictions or expectations. I do have a wonderful boyfriend and I do have classes at my dream college. But if I decided tomorrow to break things off with Elliot (NEVER) or leave Parsons (NEVER), I would have that freedom! I am the owner of my life and I couldn't be happier.
Journal, these are the best days of my life!
KEH
. . . . . . . .
California
"Blaine, are you ready? The end-of-the-year party starts in a half hour and we need to get going," Etienne sang out.
"Almost ready," Blaine called. He straightened the collar of his green button up and smoothed his jeans. He'd had to go a size up. The damn 'freshman fifteen' had turned into the 'freshman twenty five'. He was slowly working it off, but couldn't always find the energy or will to go and work out, though some of the guys he'd met in his anger management group had included him in their weekly 'kick your ass until you have no more energy' workouts.
Life without Kurt was normal life now, as sad as the thought was. He was used to waking up alone and making his own coffee. Walking to his classes with nobody to share every thought with on the way. He was happy to have a small circle of good friends and they were all sensitive to his situation. He didn't try to hide his past now, he was open with several people as well as his Dom abuse therapist. He had 'graduated' from the classes, but had decided to continue on, knowing he could always be a better person than he was. His therapist, Rupert, was a great guy who was teaching Blaine so much about where he'd gone wrong and how he'd so badly interpreted his lessons both in school and from his grandfather. The grandfather that had led him so far away from what the truth of life and his nature was.
Grandfather. The man who had meant so very much to him, the man he'd modeled himself after in so many ways, turned out to be so wrong, it had cost him everything. Would he still have Kurt if he'd been like Nick or Wes? As it was, his grandfather had cut him off of any financial support. Luckily his scholarship still covered his tuition even with the change of major. According to grandfather, Kurt 'stealing' the graduation money had been the beginning of the end. The conversation with his grandfather when he'd told him he wasn't pursuing medicine was the loudest, angriest talk he'd ever been a part of. Apart from the way he'd screamed at Kurt…
He was just grateful it was by telephone and not in person.
All of what had made his life perfect was gone. His soul mate, his grandfather, his 'dream' college major. His major, however perfect the dream of being Dr. Anderson, was the only thing he was happy to see go. He was thriving in his music program and his teachers had high hopes for a career in teaching music or composing.
He ran to meet Etienne and they headed out to the car.
"I, uh, didn't post a video this week," Blaine said, looking at Etienne as they drove.
Etienne grinned. "I'm proud of you, darling! That's what? Six weeks now? I know it's been hard for you especially since everyone stopped commenting and openly supporting you. I'm glad to see you are moving on. It is a healthy place to be."
Blaine smiled at the praise. Rupert had several long talks with him about how he was being passive aggressive with posting the videos to Kurt, how it could be mentally abusive toward his love. He said neither Kurt nor Blaine couldn't heal until he could let go. It was hard, and always would be hard, to stop wanting Kurt, but he knew his soul mate didn't want him anymore. Or need him. From what he knew and gleaned from Jeff's Facebook, Kurt had a wonderful life in New York.
Kurt had looked so beautiful when he'd seen him in San Francisco. Gorgeous, like a fallen angel with his mussed up hair and eyeliner, the leather pants that had hugged his legs and perfect, tight ass. His heart, and admittedly his cock, had pounded so hard he'd felt light headed. Blaine didn't know what he had expected to happen when he made eye contact with Kurt. Part of him wanted to scream out a Dom order for him to come back to him. Yeah right. That dumb ass emotion was washed away in grief when Kurt and that hulking giant had glared at him, making him very much aware that he would not be getting any chance to speak with Kurt. Unable to help himself, he'd reached for him in desperation, but quickly stopped. He knew he was making a fool of himself. So he'd left, gone to his dorm room and spent the afternoon in tears.
"We're going to have fun tonight, darling. I'm going to find you a cute little guy to dance with. Or maybe someone taller, maybe a bear," Etienne rambled, breaking him out of his head. "Yeah, that's it. You need someone to wrap you up in his arms and snuggle you like a little fuzzy headed teddy bear."
"Etienne, come on, that is ridiculous," Blaine said with a grin.
"Promise me, as your best friend, that you will dance with whoever I find for you," Etienne demanded, pouting though his eyes glittering with excitement.
Blaine groaned. "Fine, just stop."
"Yeah!" Etienne cried triumphantly.
An hour later found Blaine in the arms of David, a guy studying to be a physical therapist. He had felt the tension in Blaine's shoulders and had massaged him as they moved to the music. Blaine found it strange and confusing to be in someone else's arms. It wasn't unpleasant. It didn't make him feel wrong like it would have when he and Kurt shared a bond. The close contact made him grieve once more for his lost soul mate. He let himself sink into the man's strong embrace, allowing himself to just feel, enjoy the contact with someone who was attractive and found him attractive.
They danced through several songs, even through a silly line dance number. That had them laughing and they easily fell into each other when the music slowed down into a sensual rhythm. David moved with him and tipped his chin up. Before Blaine knew what was happening, he felt dry, warm lips brush along his. It wasn't the wildfire that was kissing Kurt, but it felt good. He allowed David to tilt his head as their lips slotted together, moving lazily as they explored each other. David opened his mouth and licked along Blaine's bottom lip and he opened under him. For several long moments, they tasted each other and delved deeply into the other's mouth. His pants began to tighten and it shocked him to his core. David must have felt his response because he ground against him. This wasn't Kurt though, his waist wasn't small, hips jutting gently as they rolled into him.
Suddenly, he couldn't handle it anymore, it was too much. He stepped back, his hand moving to his mouth. "I'm so sorry David, I have to get going. I, uh, have a lot of studying to do," he said, blinking back the tears burning in his eyes.
The taller man's expression was understanding. "No problem. I could tell you were preoccupied. You're really cute and I like you, so if you ever want to go out, ask Etienne for my number. I suggest some stretches to get rid of that tension in your shoulders," he offered kindly. "Take care." With that he walked away into the crowd of dancers.
Blaine made his excuses to Etienne, who wanted to stay, and managed to find a way home on his own. He walked into his dorm room and sat on his bed. He put his head in his hands and wondered if he would ever feel whole again. Looking at his blank wrist band and broken key Mark, he shook his head. None of it made sense. Was he destined to be alone forever?
. . . . . . . .
New York
Hey sweetie," Kurt said, answering his phone.
"Hello mon doux," Elliot returned. "I have some news for you."
"Ooh, I'm intrigued," Kurt said teasingly.
Elliot's chuckle tickled Kurt's ear and made him shiver. "It's about your Mark."
Kurt froze. "What about it?"
"Well, my professor, remember the one I've been telling you about? He got in touch with some people who pointed him to a Mark historian slash expert who has some answers about your Mark. We can go see him this afternoon. You finished up your finals today right?" Elliot asked. He sounded eager and excited.
Kurt felt a shiver go through him deep inside. For some reason, he really didn't want to go. "Um, yeah I did. Uh, sure, we can do that. Did he give you any idea what is going on?"
"No, but he seemed pretty excited about it. So, I'll meet you in front of the auditorium and we'll go from there, okay? Say an hour from now?" he asked.
"Sounds good," Kurt said, trying to sound eager.
"See you soon mon doux," Elliot said sweetly. "I love you."
"Je t'aime," Kurt replied, smooching into the phone before hanging up. His lips turned down and his stomach churned. Anything to do with Doms and subs and soul mates and Marks was just not something he wanted to deal with. He'd hoped Elliot's teacher had given up. Nurse Tim had continued to look but never found anything. Instead of talking about Marks, they got together with Sami and bitched about people and mocked people's fashion choices. The mind twins added another. Now they called themselves the mind-trio. Those were happy thoughts. Marks brought unhappy thoughts. Ugh.
. . . . . .
He met up with Elliot and they walked to Elliot's classroom. Inside the office, Kurt met Professor Allen who, in turn, introduced them to Warren Rogers, a Mark Historian.
"Mr. Hummel, a pleasure," Warren said, shaking his hand, then Elliot's.
"Why don't we all sit down," Professor Allen said.
The four sat around a small, round table, a large book and file folder filled with papers sitting in front of Warren. Kurt looked at the folder warily, seeing his name written on it.
"Before we begin, may I see your Mark?" Warren asked, his brown eyes bright with excitement.
Kurt looked at Elliot who smiled, then removed his wrist band and held his arm out toward the man next to him.
Warren held Kurt's hand gently and gave a small gasp when he saw the line that was still visible through the Mark. The black band under the Mark that still held Blaine's name was still there. He examined it all closely, turning it this way and that before letting go.
"I must tell you, Mr. Hummel," he began with a grin.
"Kurt, please," Kurt interrupted, putting his wrist band back on.
"Thank you. Okay, Kurt, I have never seen this before in person," Warren said.
"In person? So you've seen it somewhere else?" Kurt asked, his interest peaked.
"I have," the man said, opening the large, antique looking book. He had a spot marked and opened the book, turning it to face Kurt, and pointed at a spot. "Here, take a look."
The picture of the Mark in the book was in black and white. The note on the side said it was from a woman in Pennsylvania in 1912. Her Mark was much like Kurt's, in an open position, but with a clean line through the lower half of her lock.
"Does it say what happened with her?" Kurt had to know.
"It was a situation similar to your own from what I hear," Warren said. "Her soulmate beat her regularly. Unlike you, she had no resources or ways to escape him. During that time, women and submissives were all expected to stay home and work but were treasured and taken care of above all else. Abuse, like now, was nearly unheard of. This woman, Isabel Lopez, like I said, had no outside resources. So she decided to take her own life," he said.
Kurt gasped, his hand over his mouth. He couldn't imagine wanting to end his own life. Though he could sympathize with the desperate need to get away.
"She lived near a quarry and jumped off a steep hill. She was found by workers and rushed to a local hospital. She was badly injured, but alive. The doctor that treated her saw her broken Mark, took note of it and researched it. He found a couple other cases from detailed accounts in the 1700's and 1800's. From what we've been able to discern, the broken Mark indicates a complete and total break between soulmates. One soulmate has removed the other from their heart and soul with absolutely no doubt and no desire to reconcile," he finished.
Kurt thought for a moment. It made sense. When he got in that rental van and didn't look in the rearview mirror when he drove away, he had no doubts. Blaine was no longer in his life or heart. That was the moment when he felt his Mark break.
"There's more," Warren said, his green eyes dancing in excitement.
Kurt's stomach sank. "What is it?"
"With Isabel Lopez and two other accounts I found, their Marks were 'reborn', is the term we're using," he said, sorting through the papers in front of him.
"Reborn?" Elliot asked, leaning forward.
Kurt was frozen as he realized what the man was saying.
"Yes, in the Lopez case, she went back to the same physician for an illness and the doctor looked at her Mark, hoping to delve more into what had happened to it. The Mark was healed, except for a small scar like area," Warren said. He pulled out a grainy picture that had been photocopied. In the picture was Isabel's wrist with the lock opened and a small line where the break had been.
"Amazing," Professor Allen said. Elliot nodded in agreement. Kurt could only stare. "What ended up happening with her? Are there further records?"
"Yes, indeed," Warren said, practically bouncing in his seat. "This is where it gets really exciting. The doctor was able to stay in contact with Ms. Lopez after that second visit. He would regularly check up on her and see if anything had happened. He was determined to record the entire event. Several years later, she came to him practically hysterical. She had a man with her whom she introduced as her beau. The man's soul band now had a name on it. Isabel Lopez. Even more astounding," Warren paused and pulled out another faded picture, "was the fact that her Mark was now closed! Her soul band still had her previous husband's name on it but it was now faded and her beau's name had taken its place. The scar, as it were, was still there, but for all intents and purposes, her Mark was restored and she had a new soul mate!" Warren shifted about, waiting for their reactions.
"Holy shit," Elliot muttered, his eyes wide, grabbing at the latest picture to study it.
"My thoughts exactly," Professor Allen said. "Did the accounts say how or when the Mark changed? What precipitated it?"
Warren's cheeks reddened. "According to Ms. Lopez's beau, they had intimate relations and that was when they felt the Connection. We aren't sure if this is how the change will always present itself, but it is definitely one way it can occur."
Professor Allen blushed a little. "It makes sense, though. Intimacy is typically how a Claiming occurs, so it makes sense for it to activate the change."
"Mr. Hummel, do you realize what this means for you personally?" Warren asked, turning to a still silent Kurt.
"I think I have an idea," Kurt whispered, his normally pale face going almost gray.
"You essentially have a clean slate, a chance to find a new soul mate! A chance at a real, abiding, perfect love," he said, his eyes glowing intently.
"This whole thing is just unbelievable!" Professor Allen blurted. "Do you know what this means for our society?"
"I know," Warren replied excitedly. "Although Mr. Hummel's case is the first recorded since the Lopez account, we can assume that this is entirely possible."
"History is going to change," Allen whispered. "We are witnessing history right now. Did anything else happen in the Lopez case?"
"Interesting enough, for many generations, the Lopez women haven't found their soul mates. We have no idea if this is related to the Mark issue or not. Some historians believed that because the original Mark broke, it somehow affected the future generations. Others believe that thinking is ridiculous, like it's some freaky curse or something. The point is simple that they just never found their soul mates. Dominant or submissive, it didn't matter," Warren said. "Anyway, back to the original Lopez account," he began, moving toward Professor Allen. The two stood up and wandered closer to study the pictures as Elliot slid closer to Kurt. He was concerned about his boyfriend's stunned expression and silence.
"Kurt, are you okay?" he asked, rubbing Kurt's arm.
There were so many trains of thought going through Kurt's head, he didn't know what to concentrate on. He heard the story about the Lopez descendants and it made him flash back to Rachel's comments to Santana Lopez on Facebook. He heard that sex brought about the change in the Mark. The thought he decided to concentrate on was when he heard the men talking about how they could study Kurt's Mark and get the science and the leaders of the soul mate community involved in this historic event. He briefly saw himself in sterile white rooms with people poking and prodding at his arm, scientists and doctors demanding every detail of his personal life. He jumped out of his seat.
"You will not tell anyone about my Mark," he shouted suddenly, his brain moving quickly into self-preservation mode. "This is my personal life, my Mark, my business. If you report to anyone about what is happening I will sue you for emotional abuse of a submissive. Do you hear me? You know I will win, especially here in New York. Mr. Rogers, you may record my story anonymously. If I ever hear my name in conjunction with this event or whatever it is, I will also sue you. Do you understand me?" he thundered.
The men all wondered for a moment how this man was a submissive with how absolute his words were.
"Mr. Hummel, please, this is a historic moment that could change lives," Warren pleaded. "You must see that."
"I do see that and that is the only reason I am allowing you to record my story. Again, anonymously. Do not cross me on this," Kurt raged on, his eyes a steely gray. "I will end you if this gets out. Now, am I clear?"
Warren tried to glare at him, trying to intimidate him. He'd obviously never met a pissed off Kurt Hummel. Nobody pushed the Hummel's around.
Kurt stalked up to the man and got in his face, glaring, his eyebrow raised arrogantly. "I said, am. I. Clear?"
The man stared at him for a moment before backing down with a nod. "Fine. But can I at least get you to answer some questions for me?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll get back to you," Kurt said, turning away from him to look at Professor Allen. "Do you agree to keep this between us?"
The professor was smart enough to nod. "Your life is your life. I guess I wouldn't want the world to descend on me either."
"Good. I need to leave. Elliot, I'll call you," he said. Before anyone could say anything else he turned and fled the room.
Walking as fast as he could, he made his way to the nearby Washington Square Park. The sight of the familiar stone arch was comforting. Digging into his satchel, he pulled out his headphones and set his phone on his favorite playlist.
He couldn't believe this was happening. There was another person out there who could push him around, try to own him. He wasn't free anymore. Reverting to his old habits, he kept his hands in his pockets. He would have to dig out his familiar gloves. He could remove them for his classes unless he was doing fittings. In every other situation he would have to avoid touching people.
No! He could not go through this again! No, he would not put himself in that position again, he thought. The anguish was eating at him, oppressing him. There was no way he could handle another relationship like the one with Blaine. He couldn't see anything else except the fury on Blaine's face as he'd yelled at him and the pain of that wooden spoon across his ass and thighs. It didn't matter to his confused, panicked mind that Blaine's treatment of him was the exception, not the rule. All he knew was that he would never risk another Dom thinking he could rule over Kurt's life and betray his love and trust by beating the shit out of him. No.
He walked around the park so many times he lost count. His mind wouldn't get over his shock and the realization that his freedom could be lost once more. Making his way to the subway, he let his mind get lost in the music.
Tonight, my head is spinning
I need something to pick me up
I've tried but nothing is working
I won't stop
I won't say I've had enough
Tonight, I start the fire
Tonight, I break away
Break away from everybody
Break away from everything
If you can't stand the way
This place is
Take yourself to higher places
At night I feel like a vampire
It's not right
I just can't give it up
I'll try to get myself higher
Let's go
We're going to light it up
Tonight we start the fire
Tonight we break away
Break away from everybody
Break away from everything
If you can't stand the way
This place is
Take yourself to higher places
If you can't stand the way this place is
Take yourself
To higher places
Break away from everybody
Break away from everything
If you can't stand the way
This place is
Take yourself to higher places
. . . . . . .
Kurt dug through the basket with his gloves in it. Finding the leather pair he'd worn for so long in high school, he sighed. He still couldn't believe it was happening again. He slipped them on. Might as well get used to the feeling of them again.
His phone buzzed and he saw an incoming text from Elliot.
Call me, I'm worried about you, mon doux
Oh, fuck, he thought. Elliot. Could he risk it? Stay with Elliot and risk finding some other asshole who would just rip him away from the man he really loved? Or walk away and try to save both of them extra pain?
A sob burst from his throat, scratching its way out, a loud wail of heartbreak. He couldn't stay with Elliot. He stumbled through his loft, pacing all the while sobbing and crying, clutching Cosette like a lifeline.
When he could finally breathe, he went to his refrigerator. There were two full bottles of wine that he was saving for his mind-trio date with Tim and Sami. Screw that, his need was greater. He grabbed the nearest bottle and went out onto the fire escape and began to drink.
He had no idea how many hours had passed or when he had broken out the second bottle of wine. Numbness had set in. That and a drunken determination to fix what could possibly go very wrong. He dialed the number, he greeted him. From there on, whatever he said was a blur. Crying, raging, panic and heartbreak came through in his slurred words. He continued to listen. Until Kurt gave him reason to stop listening. He denied what Kurt said, demanded that he listen to reason. But reason had left Kurt hours back. He insisted he was right and this was for the best. It would save them in the end, wouldn't it? Then the phone was sitting in his lap. When the call ended, he didn't know.
Now Kurt sat on his couch, music still playing in the background, feeling dead inside. He'd saved them both from pain, right?
Waiting for the end to come
Wishing I had strength to stand
This is not what I had planned
It's out of my control
Flying at the speed of light
Thoughts were spinning in my head
So many things were left unsaid
It's hard to let you go
I know what it takes to move on
I know how it feels to lie
All I want to do
Is trade this life for something new
Holding on to what I haven't got
Sitting in an empty room
Trying to forget the past
This was never meant to last
I wish it wasn't so
What was left when that fire was gone?
I thought it felt right but that right was wrong
All caught up in the eye of the storm
And trying to figure out what it's like moving on
And I don't even know what kind of things I said
My mouth kept moving and my mind went dead
So I'm picking up the pieces, now where to begin
The hardest part of ending is starting again
All I want to do
Is trade this life for something new
Holding on to what I haven't got
I'm holding on to what I haven't got
I'm holding on to what I haven't got….
Elliot, I'm so damn sorry.
. . . . . . .
Break: Three Days Grace
Waiting for the End: Linkin Park