Nowhere else to place my feelings

Last night, I had the opportunity to see The Script live in Manila for the second time. I’d first seen them back in 2011, and that was when I officially became a fan. At that time I’d only known their more famous songs like Breakeven and The Man Who Can’t Be Moved. A week before their show, I scrambled to learn the rest of the songs from the Science and Faith Album. When I heard You Won’t Feel A Thing live, it instantly became one of my favorite songs of all time. It is beautiful lyrically and musically. Nothing was bittersweet in delivery and the story behind it was something many of us could relate to at some point (at least in feeling, if we never got around to picking up the phone).

I swore I would watch them again if they came back. And they did, last night. While it was evident that touring was taking its toll on the boys – they are only human, after all – their spirits still defied physical constraints and their emotions bled through every song. The crowd was so much better and much bigger this time around – the energy was electric and constant. Not a single moment when no applause or scream or declaration of love could be heard. Goosebumps were ever present and the coliseum simply flowed with appreciation for the band’s talent and hard work.

Watching and hearing them also, if I may borrow a line from Love Actually, put my life into a rather harsh perspective. As Glen beat the shit out of the drums, and Mark danced with his guitar across the stage and Danny sang his heart out for the audience, I felt so small. There they were, touching and saving the lives of people through one of the most potent platforms humanity has ever created, and here I was, still unsure of my purpose on earth.

Music is one of my greatest loves and my frustration in life (among many) is to be a musician – be it a singer or a guitarist or a bassist or a producer – I don’t care, anything to do with music! To see other people be able to do that with so passion and ecstasy (their smiles on stage could be seen miles away) breaks and mends my heart. It breaks my heart because how I wish I, too, were doing what they were doing, yet it is mended because I am extremely grateful that people like them exist. People who can create such wonderful words and rhythms and thoughts that we barely have the ability or courage to muster. People who take away the burden of keeping everything inside us and allowing us to feel things organically through their music.

I’ve been seeing postsĀ  somewhere of The Script not being just a band, and I think I understand that now. I would like to believe that it is never too late for anything – and who knows, I might find myself involved with music at some point, producing at the very leastĀ  – but for now I will live vicariously through them for their songs are those I wish I had written to help people heal, feel and keep on loving.