"I think you're making a dumb decision."

I've never been known for my tact, nor have I ever been told that I have intelligent diction. At this point, what did I care? I had nothing to lose. We both knew it.

I put my heart on the table that night. At the time, that wasn't even a metaphor to me.

It's sweaty palms.

It's nerves making your leg shake.

It's telling lies to make the situation easier.

It's those butterflies in your stomach regressing back to their cocoon. 

Those butterflies have wings for a reason: they can fly from danger. If they don't feel right where they are, nothing is stopping them from going airborne and finding some place new. They do it with such style and panache that it's hard to hold a grudge.

 I swear the females of my past were caterpillars when they were young.

The air was getting warm again, which meant another Sunshine State summer filled with high hopes of a Don Henley song coming to life. How naive are we to think that that could even happen in this small town?   

The air was getting too warm to sit outside of a coffee shop, that's for sure. But we had to get this over with. Move on. Stop trying to relive the past.

We spend our young lives wishing we were old enough to drive a car, or go to college, or buy alcohol, or just be called an "adult." Once we hit that stage, we spend our lives wishing we could go back. It's a sick fucking cycle, but I'm not willing to break it.

She looked pretty. Too pretty. Pretty to the point that as soon as I saw her, I knew I'd hating her by the end of the night. I was half right: the night wasn't over.

Her hair was darker than I remembered, and she seemed happy. She seemed happy. HAPPY. Something I was convinced I couldn't be without her. Once again, the naivety comes into play.

That night (and repeatedly over the next five months), I realized that you must stop living your past to be able to build your future. This world isn't going to wait on you, kid. It's how you adapt to this spinning sphere that we inhabit that shows who you are.

So, I ask you: who are you?



xxx.