Heads I go. Tails you stay.
So she steps forward, shoots a fiery smile in his direction. He rolls his eyes, laughing, and takes her hand. It’s a long drive, but from the passenger seat, the trees pass by in a hurried blur.
She knows it’s kismet. She knows her guardian angel is glad to take some time off, to let this tall drink of sun tea watch over a bit.
When the road starts to curve, she ignores the bright yellow SLOW sign. She’s not afraid. He is safe in the mountains, on the roads she grew up driving.
They draw a square along the paper map. It’s fun to work with inked lines for the first time in forever, after staring at the lights of the GPS for too long.
There are boxes stacked on boxes, covered in tape and room labels.
There is trust stacked on memories, covered in lies.
“Yeah, only you.”
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
Then all of the sudden it’s too late and too much and not enough all at once. The realization makes her chest cold and her neck hot. There is a ring on her right hand. It’s not hers, but it’s not anyone else’s.
But at least she took the first step, as well as the last. Her words were the beginning, and the end. Pain sneaks in if she allows anything past the numb, but she pays the price a little to acknowledge the pride.
So she steps back. She turns the music up. There’s a half glass of wine and a world of power within her.
Consequence (noun): 1. A result or effect of an action or condition. 2. Importance or relevance.
I feel like I’m back in my childhood bedroom, writing in my bright blue diary with a pink gel pen, but we have to get those words out too, right? I’ve already said enough today. I think if I said anymore, it would just be cliche dribble. So I’ll let these far more experienced authors speak for me tonight:
“I knew I would hate my best memory because it would prove that people could fake love or that love could end or worst of all, love was not powerful enough to change a life.”
― Mona Simpson
“Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, (from The Great Gatsby)
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do, so throw off the bowlines, sail away from safe harbor, catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” -Mark Twain