Dearest

(Clairine T.)

Imagine writing a letter to your past self; what would you write? Would you tell yourself about your future? Or give some advice as to how to make your life better? And most of all, did you reach the dreams that you had tens years ago, or found a new one to follow as you grew up and found-- or still searching for-- your place in life? The contents of that letter are entirely up to you, and this song is the reflection behind one of the many letters those who're willing to take up the task would send to themselves if such a time-bending feat is possible.

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Waking up and seeing that no one's there Makes you want to go back Or leave a message For the you ten years before There's no need to write your future It'll come on its own What were you thinking at that time What do you want to hear the most Just a dreamer in high school Waiting for time to pass you by What did you do then What are the dreams you've forgotten The friends you've parted with What are the chances that you still Regret taking now And what are the moments that made you proud I'm thinking back, wondering now How different it was back then Were the things I loved Still remained with me now Was I what I wanted to be When I was 18 and worried about it all? Was I the dream I wanted to reach Since I was 18, before everything mattered so much? Was it me that drew on the walls Splattering paint, laughing like I'm the queen of the world Was it me that ran out Before the clock striked three Dragging you with me Through the streets, to the corner With all of our things Your flower beds, all your bouquets My masterpieces, charcoal sketches Splashed with colored paint like the walls Was it still there Buried under other broken things? And if we came back Would our old selves be there with them Are we still us, or just a lost cause? My handwriting hasn't changed much It just got bigger and bolder But the curves stayed the same The gray lines were the same shade And the words I would use Never did change But I've seen more now I know what's coming next I'm thinking back, wondering now How different it was back then Were the things I loved Still remained with me now Was I what I wanted to be When I was 18 and worried about it all? Was I the dream I wanted to reach Since I was 18, before everything mattered so much? Was it me that drew on the walls Splattering paint, laughing like I'm the queen of the world Was it me that ran out Before the clock striked three Dragging you with me Through the streets, to the corner With all of our things Your flower beds, all your bouquets My masterpieces, charcoal sketches Splashed with colored paint like the walls Was it still there Buried under other broken things? And if we came back Would our old selves be there with them Are we still us, or just a lost cause? I'll give myself some advice A role model to follow Make myself sound great To ignite new hope That's been missing for me since 13 began Then I'll leave some notes with smiles At the bottom, for me to make fun of Because at least they haven't changed at all

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