The Story of Us

You run into someone you haven’t seen in what seems like forever. You knew each other in college…"You dated that crazy chick, I can’t remember her name….”

You catch up over a beer, you laugh and ramble on about nothing and everything.  As you clumsily put your number into that strange little device, that tiny weapon of mass destruction that enables you to simultaneously keep your secrets and destroy them at will…

You think to yourself, I'll probably never hear from them again anyway.

But one night turns into a couple text messages, a few more beers and two or three more nights out. It multiplies into the strangest feeling, divides itself between what is right and what you know you want and before you know it; you’ve added yourself to a list of dreamers, who thought that a random coincidence could turn into something perfect.

Some people say you can’t start something before you end what came before. Is it possible to ever really grieve the heartache from the past when you’ve been barreling into the future at full speed? We don’t think about these things when were caught up in our new beautiful mess.

We don’t think about what we can’t control, what we don’t know or how we will ever be able to figure out how to make something out of what started as nothing…

Out of what might very well, should have never became more than what it started out to be; nothing.

When the glass you’re walking on is about to break through and you have nowhere else to lay down but in the bed you made, your faced with the humbling realization that some of your mistakes are what brought you here and that some of his just made it all the more impossible to fix. We tried to fix it didn’t we? We want to fix it…To say we can “make this work” but as I sat on the floor of my living room for the millionth time this month, crying out loud for someone who would never love me the same way again, it finally sunk in that it was time, to just fall through that glass, and lay down in that bed.

I woke up on another rainy Sunday, after another worst Saturday night, and knowing I couldn’t survive another tear-filled Monday morning, I had to start over.

You must start wherever you are, and start small.

This is where we are now, and where my story begins; the story of us.