When I grew up
I had big city dreams
I wondered if the Bible was wrong
What the hell were they teaching me?

I was lost in thought
And I could not hide it
But the sun, it kept on rising
So, I played along

But now that you’re gone 
And I write down this song
I don’t believe this is how it’s meant to be
The church bells they ring
You can hear the mourners sing
They still believe
This is how it’s meant to be

The wheels touch down
All I can see is your face
Amidst the noise of the lights
The last thing on my mind was my faith

And then the morning came
And the sun started rising
But I was missing my friend
So, how do I carry on?

‘Cause now that you’re gone
And I write down this song
I don’t believe this is how it’s meant to be
The church bells they ring
You can hear the mourners sing
They still believe
This is how it’s meant to be

I remember the first time I heard this song, the day after my 27th birthday, the first birthday I had celebrated alone since 20. It was one of the roughest times in my life and I remember when Dallas said he’d be releasing it I waited up til midnight to listen to it. I’ve never had words cause me physical pain before, but these ones did. I was in the midst of selling my house and a very messy break up. It felt like Dallas was talking to me, I genuinely in my heart and in my gut didn’t believe it was how things were meant to be at the time.

As numb as I was when I heard it, I felt seen. More importantly I didn’t feel alone anymore. It’s weird how music can be about one thing, but make you feel another. The song is about Dallas losing his best friend, and I didn’t know that a month later I’d receive the news I was losing mine. For a moment the person I felt closest to in the world was a man I had never met. When I met him earlier this year there was something about shaking his hand and the words he shared with me that made me realize we did share a similar pain.

At the time I heard this I was spending all my time in 3 places. Work, Jiu-jitsu, at home with my dog. I was very isolated from people, I wasn’t providing good hospitality, I didn’t feel inspired. I was broken and empty. I just closed my eyes for a minute and truly felt like I was back on the couch after a day of work, feels like I just time traveled for a moment. You know, I’m not sure I ever stopped being broken and empty, or healed. I just went on and avoided it, eventually got lost in work, got lost in anything I could. I would go to jiu jitsu 4 nights a week with one goal in mind, let someone practice on me. I felt like I deserved to be punished for mistakes I had made, and people beating me in jiu jitsu felt like punishment. Doing something you suck at always feels like punishment in my opinion.

I didn’t listen to this song on purpose tonight, it came on and I wanted to see what I’d feel from listening it. Numb is the answer if you were wondering. Like I can’t see or hear anything around me, like my eyes have glazed over for good. When I hear this song I’m reminded of my biggest failure, and it’s not the ex. It’s my dog. You know recently I’ve felt angry, but a type of anger I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before. I’m angry in the sense that I want to hurt someone, not emotionally but like you know, beat the shit out of someone who’s a bad person anyways. I’ve also felt this overbearing need to provide for and protect the people around me, to just feel fulfilled. I didn’t understand until I listened to this song, and then the song that came out after this called “underground”.

In the song “underground” which I’ve had a share of good cries to there’s a line that fucking haunts me, has literally kept me up for days at a time. Or a few lines I guess. Dallas sings:

Like a great canadian darkness
I will cover you
Nothing will harm us
I will protect you

Every time I hear that motherfucker say “I will protect you” it feels like someone is twisting a knife in my stomach. When this song came out I had already found out Presley had cancer, and I had already found out what type, but I didn’t yet know if she would be eligible for a clinical trial or not. When I found out she wasn’t eligible for the trial I realized that I couldn’t protect her anymore. I knew she would die in 4-6 weeks and there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do about it.

I may be a bit old school in this type of thinking but I’m of the mind when you commit to something you fucking commit. I say old school because gen z can’t commit to a god damn thing, how could they ever understand that. To me it’s simple: if you commit to something or someone you love then you commit. There’s going to be good days and bad days, but you never stop trying, because if you don’t stop trying you can’t lose. When I adopted Presley I committed to her. There were plenty of bad days, where she would misbehave, go to the bathroom in the house, do something really annoying like destroy my entire bedroom the first time I left her alone. I committed though, and so even on the bad days, especially towards the end when you know it’s coming to an end and you can literally see it in her eyes that it’s time.

I can’t describe the good days to you, because the words don’t exist. That’s how I know that love was unconditional. I still failed though. You know I blame myself for her death. It’s hard to ever know with cancer, was it something I fed her, toys I gave her, was she born with the genes that made it more likely. I get angry with myself that I didn’t catch it sooner, that there wasn’t more that I could do.

When I think about those days I realize that she’s gone for good, but that isn’t the hardest part. The hardest part is knowing I may never forgive myself, I may never allow myself to love like that again, hell love like that may not find me again even if I did allow it. The hardest part is knowing this feeling is never going away.

I don’t believe this is how it’s meant to be.

Where the skies are gold not gray,

J.