I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist
I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift
Pulled them in tighter each time they were drifting away
My spine split from carrying us up the hill
Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill
I stopped trying to make them laugh
Stopped trying to drill the safe
Thinkin, how much sad did you think I had
Did you think I had in me?
Oh, the tragedy …

So long, London
You’ll find someone …

I didn’t opt in to be your odd girl out
I founded the club they heard great things about
I left all I knew, you left me at the house by the Heath
I stopped CPR, after all it’s no use
The spirit was gone, we would never come to
And I’m pissed off you let me give you all that care for free

For so long, London
Stitches undone
Two graves, one gun
I’ll find someone …

And you say I abandoned the ship
But I was going down with it
My white knuckle dying grip
Holding tight to your quiet resentment and
My friends said it isn’t right to be scared
Every day of a love affair
Every breath feels like rarest air
When you’re not sure if they want to be there
So how much sad did you think I had,
Did you think I had in me?
How much tragedy?
Just how low did you think I’d go?
Before I’d self-implode
Before I’d have to go be free

You swore that you loved me but where were the clues?
I died on the altar waiting for the proof
You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days
And I’m just getting color back into my face
I’m just mad as hell cause I loved this place

For so long, London
Had a good run
A moment of warm sun
But I’m not the one
So long, London
Stitches undone
Two graves, one gun
You’ll find someone …

^{Songwriters: Taylor Swift / Aaron Brooking Dessner So Long, London lyrics © Songs Of Universal Inc., Tasrm Publishing}

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I’ve replaced my texting fingers with typing fingers. I am channeling the squandered energy of the last year back to my atrophied creative muscles. The blinking cursor begs for more and I want to oblige. Listening to songs of heartbreak, I take solace in the sad truth that smoke and mirrors are more commonplace than I realized.

Your bluest days included a cluster B personality disorder, narcissistic tendencies, a double life and an insatiable need for my supply. The colors have returned to the landscape of North Carolina, but I am still a deathly shade of pale. Words will revive me. I will read them in the mountains and write them while I bask in the sun. I will tell the story of how I almost lost myself, leaving all I knew to try to get to you.