My first romantic relationship lasted 16 years. We met when we were only 18, and had no idea what we were doing. But we loved each other, deeply. We were also best friends. But, on the contrary of what people usually tell you, that’s not enough for a fulfilling (or at least functional) relationship.
We were too young, too emotionally immature at first. Almost every argument started with the smallest thing, and would escalate into one of us breaking up with the other. After a few days, we would be exhausted of being mad and get back together.
Years went by, the arguments stayed, the break-ups were (almost) fully replaced with the silent treatment, pouting or hurtful communication, lasting sometimes weeks.
It was painful, but staying away seemed to be even worse.
Most of those feelings I turned into lyrics and songs. Strumming my electric guitar softly late at night because I couldn’t sleep, haunted by what seemed to be an impossible situation. Singing what I couldn’t say, many times while crying, music was my escape.
I released some of these songs (Passado Presente, Longe, Depressão, What Tha Hell, Time Stood Still), but others were just too emotionally heavy, so I kept them to myself.
When my healing journey began, I started seeing things more clearly; and with clarity, I knew what to do next.
With the break-up, came grief: grieving not only the end of the relationship itself, but the place I called home, the city I called home, the workplace I had built from scratch, but the hardest grief of all was grieving my best friend. Not being able to talk to him like we used to. And then, seeing him moving on so fast with someone else, building a family with someone else.
Again, I did what I do best: I transmuted these emotions into music.
Eventually, I started feeling more confident in my process, and decided to share not only some of those songs but also reflections about relationships, personal growth and life overall in the podcast “Reflections Of A (Slightly) Conscious Being“. And with that, it became clear that the next step would be a full album with those songs.
I struggled with that idea for a while. Some songs were incomplete, and others carried some messages I no longer related with. I doubted myself. Should I release such painful songs? Force myself to finish them, feel that pain that is so familiar and yet still so painful?
Then, I took a look around. So many people stuck in the same patterns. Feeling the same emotions I did. I thought about how much music helped me deal with all that pain, not only making music but also hearing songs from other artists, songs that resonated with the pain I felt inside. And then I felt selfish. Why should I keep these songs to myself? Knowing that maybe, one of them will help someone that is looking for a song to relate with, to cry with, to sing their way out of those tears.
This album is for all of them, and to be honest, for everyone else. Because we all felt unloved at some point in our lives. We all have felt abandoned, betrayed, left out, inadequate, not good enough, broken, flawed, stupid, ugly and so on. Sometimes we blamed others for it, sometimes we blame ourselves.
I am no different. We are, after all, only human, and that’s what this album is all about: human relationships.