Today, I’m 32.
That was my high school football number. – 14 years ago. Why that feels significant, I’m not sure. I just know for a minute there, football was all I was really passionate about. That, and young love.
Then, I met music… and oh, what a hold music has had on my old soul. My only real release of the mounds of pent up anger inside of me. Anger I’m still pulling out of life’s magic cap. Anger evolved from fear. It never ends.
I suppose because the pressure didn’t unleash in real life – just in songs. It’s a bad habit really. One I can’t kick, and I find myself troubled that the ones that know me best don’t see me as the artist I am. It’s weird because it’s how I see myself. It’s weird because I don’t reveal myself.
I’m a lone being. I portray authenticity but struggle with it daily. Just an image on a screen, a little boy with a lot of feelings. A grown man who needs a lot of healing.
31 – I was lost and found ten times over. I went to shows by myself to feel the energy, leaving 15 minutes later. I had no money. I made more money than ever. I made friends and lost them just as quick. I fell madly in love only for it to reveal all the ways I don’t really know what love is. I isolated myself from anything that didn’t feel right. It was lonely. I went to therapy. I cried. I laughed until I cried.I learned about healthy foods and lost 15 pounds. I studied politics. I grappled with purpose.
I woke up.
I confronted the boy inside of me who won’t stand up for himself. Who wants to make everyone happy. Who just wants to stop the fighting. Who hates confrontation. Who just smiles and is such a “nice” guy. He’s so stubborn.
We fight now.
Hard to believe, but yes, I’m still growing up.
– Cole
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