I woke up in the middle of the night from a bad dream and dragged myself out of bed. Well, it wasn’t even a bad dream; it was a dream of him all grown up. I wanted to stay in it. It was the most indulgent made up memory. I could’ve stayed and gotten lost in it forever. It wasn’t the dream that hurt so bad; it was waking up from it over and over again.
With shadows under my eyes, greasy hair tied on top of my head, and a cup of tea, I sat and cried over the keys of my piano for ten minutes at 4am. I looked up and saw a scrap of paper with the scribbled words, “Matthias, it’s been a while. Honestly, I’m sick of this reckless precision.” In this half awake, delirious dance with the feeling of “why” the song came to life and was sitting there right in front of me.
I had moments when I questioned naming the song, “Matthias.” I didn’t want it to seem like this song was supposed to be about him fully or even about grief fully. It is just about that moment of “why." There are no words, no rationality, no other feelings. Just, “why”
So there’s nothing else to say but their name when there are no other words to turn to- it’s a cry of desperation. So I said his name a few more times before I hit the last note.