“I guess one afternoon, you won’t cross my mind, and I’ll get over you, over time.”
Stop and think back to the last time you felt this way. How very, very hard it is to stop holding in your mind images of an old flame. It is slow torture. The assurance that one day you won’t remember their face is the opposite of comfort. Time heals all wounds, so they say, and this process is just the way of nature. Love leaches its way out of the body the same way alcohol does; like the toxin that it is, kicking and screaming.
Nobody has explored this territory more intimately than Lucinda Williams. She truly is the ultimate copilot for the battered heart.