Feeling really sentimental and deep

I was listening to Several Ways to Die Trying by Dashboard Confessional and, doing the thing I normally do with my head when I hear a song I really like, I made a scene of a movie out of it and I really wanted to write it out:

**NOTE: You really should just put "Several Ways to Die Trying" by Dashboard Confessional on repeat while reading this. You can hear it here

Me and Liz lay in my bed, the dripping of rain off of the edge of the roof can be heard outside. My feet are freezing and pale, probably because my heavy blanket isn't covering them since Liz is wrapped up in the blanket. Liz's head rests on my chest, the scent of her shampoo entering my nose. I lay on my back, hands behind my head, her arm reaches across my chest, by her head.

Liz is sound asleep, as is usual, but I can't get myself to fall asleep, despite the gray and moist conditions outside; perfecting napping weather.

As I lay there with this girl strewn across my chest like a second layer of blanket, I think about our relationship; scenes of us arguing, fighting, yelling, crying, screaming, sobbing, all enter my head. That night in my car before I left for college. Did she really yell at me that loud?

All these images fill my head, like a movie. I can't shake them but at the same time I'm fascinated by them. Like footage of 9/11, you want to look away but you can't help but keep watching, wondering what will happen next, staring in disbelief: "Did this really just happen?"

Flashback to being in my room, from fighting to sleeping, perhaps the two most opposite actions a human can do. She looks like a small kid, laying there on my chest. I think about all the times she told me that she hates waking up without me; why can't she say things like that all the time? Is there something wrong with me? Maybe we aren't met for each other.

As soon as the words "Break" and "Up" pop into my head all the happy memories come back. Laying on the beach in summer, driving up to Kate's lakehouse that first summer we were together, the drive back with Cathy asleep in the back seat. Pushing her on the swing, swimming with her in that crappy hotel pool, it all comes back like a flood of water. I listen to the thunder roll outside, images of us on my basement floor, watching movies *song crescendos* all these good memories play back in my head as though they're mounted on one of those old-time film projectors, you know the kind, where the reels of film show up like train tracks on the screen, completeing the metaphor of the film in my head representing a journey; the same journey one might take on a train. I think about all of this, the good, the bad. Was it worth it? I take one last look at this 18 year old girl, reverted back into her infantile state, sleeping on my chest.

It's not about whether or not it's worth it. It's about if I'm happy with my life. The things we do make us who we are, and whether or not I end up marrying this girl is irrelevant, all the experience she has given me is what matters. That's what ALL life is about. The road we go down, the parts revealed to us and the parts still concealed.

/End memory