Bring Me Black Roses

“You can throw your words,
sharper than a knife…”

Those are the words in the first verse of “Black Roses” by Scarlett O’Conner, or Clare Bowen of ABC’s Nashville. While on the show she writes the song about her terrible relationship with her mother, I-of course- relate the song to none other than my ed.

“Now you only bring me black roses,
and they crumble into dust when they’re held
Now you only bring me black roses,
under your spell…”

The first time I heard this song in it’s full entirety, tears welled up in my eyes and I had to try my hardest not to cry. I happened to be in a room with a bunch of people and I do enough crying so I really didn’t need them to see me cry more than I already do. But I felt this way, because I finally got to hear someone else struggle with something so deep and so dark that they can actually make me feel the same pain that they feel; which happens to be the same pain I feel because of my eating disorder. I’m under Ed’s spell. I really, truly am. I have to learn how to break free.

“Now you only bring me black roses,
and they crumble into dust when they’re held
Now you only bring me black roses,
under your spell…”

When I’m belting this song out at the top of my lungs in my car I literally feel like I’m screaming and yelling at Ed for what he has done to me and how he has made me feel. I’m telling Ed that he’s not good for me, that he clouds my eyes with lies, and that he fills my head with ugly pictures of myself. He’s an awful, terrible, horrible,  person. Who does that to another person?! Who crawls into someone’s personal thoughts and repeatedly says ‘you’re not good enough’, ‘you’re wrong’, or ‘you’re never going to be pretty’? Ed does, that’s who.

“And I’m done trying to be the one picking up the broken pieces, and I’m done trying to be the one who says I love you dear but I’m leaving…”

I’m done. 

I’m done picking up the pieces of myself. Over and Over and Over and Over again. 

Because I literally cannot do this to myself anymore. I can’t feel back anymore. It’s painful. It takes from my joy. It physically pains my heart. Don’t I deserve to be happy? I think I do. And that’s all that truly matters doesn’t it?

“Now you only bring me black roses but I’m not under your spell
I’m not under your spell, I’m not under your spell, I’m not under your spell, I’m not under your spell…”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s