Ghost roads.
So I toured, and saw parts of the country I'd only read about. It was amazing, although there was almost a trip to Michigan on the way home.
I know she doesn't remember me, since it was about nine years ago now, but in Grand Rapids I made a very large mistake with someone else's very important organ. I chose what was safe over what made me happy, and I proceeded to reprogram myself. Grand Rapids became my codeword for not choosing love over security, a monument to my own cowardice. (That same hackjob is what almost killed me, about two years ago.)
And we were headed straight for it.
I'm going to have to deal with that guilt, someday. Choosing not to stay with her was the only crucial decision I erred on where I could have possibly known better. The rest of it can be tied to nature or nurture. That was just folly.
I'd still know her by her voice. Nine years later.
So now, when I date, I don't make promises I can't keep, I don't stay with people who don't resonate, and I sure as hell will not be going back to Grand Rapids without a written invitation.
Maybe she was meant to be an object lesson, and I'm just obsessing with what I did wrong.
She looks happy now. I peeked, despite promising myself (and her) that I'd never break that glass. I know she tracks IP addresses, but I had to. I've already proven that I was stupid, narcissistic, and incapable of making brave decisions. Add this to that pile, I guess. If it helps, my meds were low that weekend.
But she is smiling so hard, in those pictures, and that's what I really wanted for her anyway. This ghost is mine alone, and I came by it quite honestly. It's not a matter of her forgiveness; she's not even an indirect object, a factor in this equation. We were together very briefly, and that was that.
I know she doesn't remember me, since it was about nine years ago now, but in Grand Rapids I made a very large mistake with someone else's very important organ. I chose what was safe over what made me happy, and I proceeded to reprogram myself. Grand Rapids became my codeword for not choosing love over security, a monument to my own cowardice. (That same hackjob is what almost killed me, about two years ago.)
And we were headed straight for it.
I'm going to have to deal with that guilt, someday. Choosing not to stay with her was the only crucial decision I erred on where I could have possibly known better. The rest of it can be tied to nature or nurture. That was just folly.
I'd still know her by her voice. Nine years later.
So now, when I date, I don't make promises I can't keep, I don't stay with people who don't resonate, and I sure as hell will not be going back to Grand Rapids without a written invitation.
Maybe she was meant to be an object lesson, and I'm just obsessing with what I did wrong.
She looks happy now. I peeked, despite promising myself (and her) that I'd never break that glass. I know she tracks IP addresses, but I had to. I've already proven that I was stupid, narcissistic, and incapable of making brave decisions. Add this to that pile, I guess. If it helps, my meds were low that weekend.
But she is smiling so hard, in those pictures, and that's what I really wanted for her anyway. This ghost is mine alone, and I came by it quite honestly. It's not a matter of her forgiveness; she's not even an indirect object, a factor in this equation. We were together very briefly, and that was that.