“You didn’t have to park so far away. I don’t think anyone’s going to be coming out of the house at this hour.”
“Naw, I just stopped the car where I could.”
“So what are you doing here?”
At times, more often than not, I think about stopping by to see how you’re doing. I’d like to think that we could catch up like old friends and part ways amiably. But that’s not what’s going to happen. Nope–you can’t stand the idea of me anymore. Because it only reminds you of what was wrong with us.
Our mistakes are like jagged daggers that are easier to ignore if we just let them hang on our bodies, because the more we tug at them the more our skin breaks.
“I can’t remember how I got here.”