Oh, take me back to the start.

Alone Together, Aristotle Roufanis

I'm glad that you met me when I was innocent and naive and kind and stubbornly believed in things that were ideal and unreal. I'm glad that I could be there for you when things were falling apart and your little world was breaking into pieces. I'm glad that I could do something for you and forget about them and didn't ask for anything back. I'm glad that you still choose to stay with me, and you somehow were there too when my dark, damaged side showed up to hurt you. Your tears could have filled the whole world, created a new ocean, given birth to turtles and fish and two-headed sharks. Your tears could have drown me too. But somehow it didn't. 

I'm more mature now. I'm more aggressive now. I'm more open. You would be surprised when you see me again. I'm more, mean. I'm more broken, and healed, and broken again, and trying to heal, to suture my wounds. I can dance now. Oh, I can dance. I learn. I learn a lot of things. Many of them were good. Many of them were not. Some of them were painful. Some of them were quiet. Some of them made me burst into tears. Some of them broke my heart. Some of them I would rather die for them to be taken back. Hello God, can you just save me? Oh, and I don't pray anymore. You would be surprised for that too.

And yet, I called you today and I said, "good things are coming." "God's here." One Republic is singing right next to me, "Oh, this has gotta be a good life." 

I do want to go back to where nothing happens. But most of the time, I want to go to where you are, and say to you that, "Darling, this has gotta be a good life."

And, if you believe in that, I would believe in it too.