There is a story in my head. Reasonable, excusable, tough as nails. I'm proud of this story in my head. I'm happy with this story. How compelling yet unchallenging it always remains. Why would I want it to be true? Truth defeats the entire point.
I wish more of it were true. Because then, maybe, I'd be able to pretend a little longer. Maybe then it would be ok. Maybe then I wouldn't notice my choice. Just a little while more. In a second. In a minute. In a sometime else.
So, story in my head, you said what you had to. You did what you had to. Now leave.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment