I continued my session, my hand disappearing into the black plastic bag as I fumbled for another Coors Light. The cold metal of the can was oddly comforting, a sensation that, in that moment, was all I had. I leaned against the desk in the dark studio, my mind racing with thoughts of my life spiraling out of control. As the shadows clung to the walls, I could feel the weight of my worries growing heavier with each passing second. Brenna and our unborn child were never far from my thoughts. I was terrified of not being able to provide for them, of failing them as a husband and father. The alcohol I clung to was just a crutch, a way to numb the pain and quiet the raging storm of doubts that threatened to consume me. As I cracked open the can, the sound echoing throughout the dark room, I swiped through the Smule app once more. This time, I settled on The Freshman by Verve Pipe, a song that resonated with my current state of mind. The idea of starting over was all too daunting, and as the opening notes filled my ears, I felt a pang of nostalgia for a time when everything seemed simpler. With the lights low, I began to sing. My voice trembled, heavy with the weight of my emotions, as I tried to find myself in the lyrics. The darkness in the studio seemed to amplify my fears, my every insecurity laid bare before me. As I sang, I could almost see my life playing out like a movie, the stark reality of my situation hitting me like a tidal wave. The song spoke of regrets and the longing for a second chance, the pain of lost love and the burden of guilt. It was as if the words had been plucked from my own thoughts, each verse cutting deeper into my soul.
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