bruised and burnt

We all seem to find the appropriate people in times of need to relive our heads of internal stress, giving more support to the theory: alone we stand together we fall apart.  For the first time in years last night I felt that little something I used to when I went to see a band play, that lovely flooding of ones soul that makes you shatter and shake.  You could see the noise wash over the crowd, like waves crashing on the shore, pulling all the viewers in and then spitting them back out, in time with the thundering bass.  Later that night I wound up in the back of my car, where so many youthful indiscretions seem to have taken place lately, and was asked, "are you still hung up on him?" All I could do was reply with a, "yes." Now I am thoroughly bruised and burnt.