Life Will Decide - Acoustic

A half-finished text sits on the screen. The kettle clicks off. Keys stay in your hand even though you’re already home. Everything feels like it’s moving, but nothing feels decided. The song lives in that small space between what was supposed to happen and what actually does. It starts with a line that lands like comfort and a boundary at the same time: “Don’t chase it my love life will decide.” Not a lecture, more like someone stopping you before you reach for the same thing again. There’s the pull to chase answers, chase people, chase a version of life that finally makes sense. But the song keeps turning you back toward one steady idea: some things can’t be forced, no matter how badly you want them. The story moves through regular days, the kind that slip by while you’re busy waiting for a sign. Time doesn’t feel like a straight line; it feels light and quick, passing before you can name what you’re feeling. Moments go by like butterflies, there for a second, gone when you try to hold on too tight. Under the calm is a question that won’t leave: what do you do with all the waiting? What do you do when you’ve planned and pushed and tried to stay in control, and life still won’t give you an answer on your timeline? There’s a moment where everything seems to freeze, like the world is paused. Instead of panic, the pause becomes a breath, a small reminder that stopping doesn’t mean failing. As it goes on, the song shifts the idea of progress. It isn’t about pushing harder; it’s about stepping back long enough to feel what’s real. Doubt isn’t treated like weakness, just like part of being human. In the quiet, without the chasing, it becomes easier to see what’s new, what’s true, and what was never meant to be held together by force. By the time that line returns, it doesn’t feel like something you heard, it feels like something you’ve learned. Like finally letting go of the door you’ve been knocking on, and sitting still long enough to hear what’s happening on the other side. Not everything is meant to be solved. Some things can only be met when they show up.