I’ve always been hyper aware of goodbyes, I mean that might go without saying because the kind of finality that is paired with them makes you extremely conscious of your own mortality. About how anything in the world and then some can happen in an instant, and being in such close proximity with all of the people that you imagine by your side when your dreams come to fruition or ultimately when they are shattered makes it less prevalent. It always makes you think about the past times in your life where you felt like you were leaving everything that you’ve ever known to move on to the unknown. It’s honestly really scary, and I don’t actually think that the scariest part is leaving who helped build you into who you are in that moment. I really believe the scariest moment is thinking about yourself finding a new team, a new group of people who have no obligation to love you but see you like they see the most important things in their life. Priceless, impalpable it doesn’t entirely make sense and in most cases never will. People always talk about how we can’t choose our family, but we do all the time from such an early age, even when we first start school at four or five years old. We don’t even realize it, but we are taking applications while simultaneously applying for the same job. A surrogate family that when the people who were supposed to be your primary source of unconditional love fail to do so, step up to the plate. It doesn’t hit nearly as hard in the early stages because we don’t know enough to be afraid of losing someone, well if we are lucky that’s the case. So when you move on it is a clean break. Middle school and especially highschool give you the impression that your life will end in its entirety when you leave the people that you have come to love. As we grow older we realize that the story of our lives isn’t necessarily a picture book filled with quaint lessons about life, love and friendship. Coupled with the images of a life well lived. It would be great if that was the case but ultimately the story of our life is a chapter by chapter slow burner. Where lessons that seemingly could be told in minutes are drug out and riddled with pain, triumph and sometimes redemption. Not every chapter in our life features different characters, but eventually the story has to mature and that comes with an ever changing cast and crew that culminates in the telling of your life. With that being said, at the same time you are also starring in other people’s life stories, it can kind of be overwhelming when you think about it. Being an integral part of someone else’s masterpiece while at the same time writing your own? It is a great load to bare when you really think about it, but with all that being said the process no matter how messy has a kind of beautiful symmetry to it, that can’t be easily replicated. I left my hometown when I was twenty two years old and along with that left behind the people who had been my biggest fans and also my worst critics, but all with love. As I make friends and write this new chapter, every now and then I think back to all the families that I had adopted growing up along with all that I had become a part of. It does sadden me some to think about the inside jokes and the late nights talking about how nobody was going to mean more to anybody than we did to each other at that moment. Knowing what it’s like to be part of those moments is breathtaking, but in no way does it compare to what it feels like to long for it. So as your story goes on you will always be playing both sides, creating and living and it will definitely make reading it worthwhile. Whoever is with you in the closing chapters, would have never made the cut if it wasn’t for the family you had when life was just a picture book, and that is what makes the goodbyes worth it. In every way.

I never understood death. I would imagine it was because anybody who’s ever had a front row seat to the show isn’t really capable of sharing the ins and outs of the Finale. I’ve always been terrified of what I didn’t understand and I worked tooth and nail to know everything I could in fear of being caught with my proverbial pants down and not have an answer. I always had an answer. But now I don’t. And I’m petrified. Every avenue of thought I can conjure up just does 360s back into a supernova of anxiety that burns up any hope I have of grasping the concept. Which was never really a problem to be honest, because I had other ventures to occupy my mind with. But now, 4 walls is all I have. I guess I should find salvation in the fact that it’s only a matter of time before I close the curtain for good. Well not on my own accord but nonetheless the show is ending for me. “ Death by electric chair”. It was never as eerie sounding probably because it was never directed towards myself. Even though I’m in here for my own actions I don’t think one ever gets used to the idea of having their life ended. It’s like watching a movie where you already know the ending and no matter how much you plead to screen for it to not be so, they will always succumb to the fate that was written for them. I used to find beauty in that, the ability to hope in the midst of hopelessness made me feel alive, as ironic as it sounds. But now I’m the main character and the script has been set. Like it was etched in stone. I don’t have weeks or days or even hours, I have minutes. The four walls that have been my worst enemy and my bestfriend that I never thought I’d miss are all I long for. The walk down the brown specked white tile hallways that had been my highway to my confinement. The feel of the guard whom I’ve grown to love if only for the fact that he is my only connection to life, to an outside world. He doesn’t work on the 4th day of the week, never. Somewhere inside I think to myself that he’s doing this for me, for which even in our exponentially different life’s we’ve created a bond. He me guides down the hall, his hand gripping the part of my arm right under my shoulder but not as if to restrain me but to comfort me because he knows he’s leading me to the end of the line. We get to the door, and as if fate could be more cruel I have to wait for them to clear me to enter. I stare at my reflection in the window to get one last look at myself, to remember as I was not to would I was to become. The door opens and I am again surrounded by four walls and a bench that stretches from wall to wall. No corners. Which to me seems like insult to immense injury as if to say that even to the end they will control how I go. It’s a weird thing today I am asked if I need anything more so than all of my time in this place. The orderly who comes to shave my body has the disposition of a preschool teacher as she works so meticulously to make sure that she gets every strand with her plastic single blade razor. She smells like vanilla, not the worst thing to go with in your mind I suppose, as she leaves she thanks me for being so still as if i had a choice in the matter but i refuse to do anything but act with dignity in my final moments, it’s the only part of my life I have control over now. I can hear as the officer is setting up metal folding chairs for the witness room, it’s medieval honestly a witness room to watch someone be burned to death. For you to be there to smell the Odor of my burned skin as I am electrocuted to my own demise. And my skin curls and my bodily fluids are released like a floodgate to have me leave it all out the floor. Exposed in my entirety but i guess I shouldn’t worry because it won’t be my mess to clean up. As I am marched to the chair I remain stern faced, because of the whole dignity thing i mentioned before but inside it’s a barn fire of emotions but I keep them at bay. I’ll never give anybody that sort of satisfaction. As I sat down the smell of old burnt flesh and bodily fluid flooded my nostrils, overwhelming any trace of the vanilla scent I had been clinging to. The feel of the dried leather and the cold buckles, riddled with dried skin as they strap me into the chair only reinforces the gravity of the situation. Both wrists. First, right then left and like clock work again, both feet. Right then left, as if I were going to choose now to put up a last ditch effort to escape but they don’t know that I of all people, understand the importance of sticking to the script. I’m sure you’re wondering why this is the ending to my story because hopefully I don’t seem like the type to warrant this kind of grand exit, but then again none of us seem like the type until we are. But It’s not for you, the details of my story that is. My story is my own, just like my ending.

I think that if I was in my right mind I would have called and canceled. Well to be totally honest I should’ve, I mean we’ve done everything in the book when it comes to activities. Do you know how whenever anything happens to you, even the slightest thing, there’s somebody you want to tell? Like an encounter at a gas station, a fight with your parents, even something as minuscule as an aberration in my morning routine. For whatever reason every small moment in my life I wanted to blow up and elongate for her, and maybe she didn’t even really care about what I’m talking about, and that’s okay. She cared about who I was becoming every single day and I don’t think I’ll ever want to give that up. She was the first person to make me feel like not knowing who I was supposed to be or what I wanted was okay. She understood that I really was afraid of deciding, but she also understood why. I wasn’t afraid for the same reason most people were, it wasn’t fear of failing in the everyday sense. It was being afraid to not be earth shatteringly brilliant at whatever it was that I would decide to do. She knew that if I couldn’t be great, the kind of way that people who came before us were. You know, the way they inspired us to rise above ourselves and want to touch greatness so badly that no one and nothing was safe from our own ambition. That kind of feeling can be terrifyingly overwhelming especially if you don’t know how to nurture it. Unknowingly she did that for me, but we had grown apart. It had maybe been nine or ten years before we were both in the same place at the same time. It wasn’t for long, but in the years before that we had reconnected, and I have to admit, I was nervous at first . I had been through so many different trials and tribulations and had been molded into somebody who I had deemed unrecognizable. I think a big part of that conclusion had come from the fact that the way I viewed her hadn’t changed. Someone that is so pure of heart she was the reason why people say, “ fantasy will never live up to the reality” which is usually true. But if someone could, it was her. Undoubtedly. We hadn’t seen each other but we had spoken everyday since the reconnection that I don’t think an in-person rendezvous would have remotely made any difference. So when I was in town I don’t think that there was any question who was going to be my first call. She had picked up on the first ring and I did my best to hold off asking her to meet up with me, and in my head I had done a good job of holding off. Of course, when I checked the call time on our conversion which I had gotten in the habit of because it was our only means of conversation for so many years. It didn’t really surprise me to see that it had only lasted a maximum three minutes and in that time we made a complete plan so I most definitely wasn’t as smooth as I had imagined in my own head. For better or for worse the plans were set in stone though. I think that as excited as I felt about being able to see each other in person after so long, It didn’t deter the urge to vomit everything I had eaten that day because there was so much unknown. I didn’t even really know what she looked like barring her face in a six inch box on my phone periodically. I was scared, to say the least, which was putting it extremely lightly. I probably tried on eleven different variations of the same outfit, sort of similar to how in the early 2000’s movies would have a montage where a hit song would play as the protagonist would do things that would normally take hours to do and end up with the perfect outcome. I can tell you first hand, that is super unrealistic and most definitely doesn’t depict the stress and hassle that came along with dressing and undressing. Approving and disapproving only to end up with the same exact thing you had on from the start. When I finally made it out of that mess I took time to actually be thankful, because I’d had the “perfect” plan for our first date mapped out since I was a teenager. Well maybe it’s not a date, but I’m sure you get the idea. I had booked a hotel that was within walking distance from everything that we would be doing because I wanted as much face time with her as possible. As I walked out the doors and was on my way I felt like I was on autopilot with my legs moving towards the predetermined destination but my mind screaming to turn back. I don’t know that I ever felt this worried about meeting anybody, and I write for a living, with Constant “ constructive criticisms” and slights being thrown my way. I should be well equipped for potential rejection, but I think I was thrown because I didn’t necessarily know what type of rejection I was scared of. We were friends, nothing more, definitely nothing less but I was still feeling like my stomach was midway through its floor routine of that year’s olympics. Before I knew it I was there, knocking on the door. I don’t know how I brought myself to do it, but I’m glad that I snapped back into consciousness when I did because she opened the door. I don’t know how I stayed up right, I had never seen somebody so aggressively beautiful in my entire life. I had seen her so many times, for a period every single day, but when she opened the door my heart dropped into my stomach. I don’t even want to imagine what I looked like because there were absolutely no thoughts present in my brain. There she was, standing there, blonde hair blue eyes that were THE cliche. So blue that you could have drowned in them, such innocence, but also something else. It had been so long and I had been through so much I don’t think I stopped to imagine the life that she could have been living without me. She was obviously beautiful, anybody who came in contact with her who could utilize the five senses could see that. But the depth in her eyes that I had seen, it was unbelievable and I think it was on my face because she threw her arms around me almost instantly. After she punched me in the arm because I would imagine my mouth was hanging nearly to the ground right in front her. She was as amazing as I remember, no matter how I was feeling she became exactly what I needed. She locked her arm in mine and started us on our walk to the date I had planned for us. Dinner and a movie, which seems basic but she was someone who appreciated the cinema the way that I did literature. As an art form that can make anybody at any moment feel included, or help them escape if need be. Of course everybody eats, but I chose dinner as well because she had the remarkable trait of being present. In any situation her ability to be “there” was unmatched, which doesn’t sound as significant as it is but she made everybody feel like it was okay to believe. Whether it was in their dreams, or happiness or just themselves. As we approached the theater I was even amazed, I had chosen the Vista Theatre, which was built in the 1920s, because it was one of the oldest if not the oldest theatre still showing movies. I saw that it was playing the “GodFather ” which I knew that she loved and, It was perfect. The theater was unnerving, how beautifully kept it had been, the tannish red with white trim, the old brick building I had seen when I first approached took my breath away. As we got into our seats I instantly felt like I was thirteen years old again. I had seen this movie a plethora of times as I’d imagine she had too, but all I could think about was when the right time would be to hold her hand. I was thirty-one years old and the only thing on my mind was if I should reach for her hand before or after Sonny was gunned down by Barzinis men. The decision felt like the biggest of my life. Considering I didn’t have her to discuss it with, I didn’t do anything, but I could tell as the movie ended that she had enjoyed the first part of the night I had planned. As we exited the theater she once again linked arms with me as we walked the two blocks to this little family owned Italian restaurant. It was reminiscent of Lady and the tramp, it was super secluded and because I had made reservations we had a table that was relatively isolated. I honestly can’t remember exactly what we talked about, but I had the time of my life. Watching her eyes like firecrackers light up with every laugh, I think that was the moment I completely fell in love, watching as she laughed with her whole body and how when she listened it was with every ounce of it as well. Again I was the thirteen year old boy who didn’t know how to conduct himself around a girl let alone someone that made me feel this alive. After our tug of war of who was going to pay the bill we got up to leave, and I had a pit in my stomach. Already well on my way to over analyzing why she didn’t want me to pay, ultimately coming to the conclusion that she didn’t want there to be any confusion about this being a date. Which hurt, but having only recently decided that she was the love of my life or having recently realized it. I tried to bounce back quickly, and by the time we were making our way back to her apartment, I had fully come to terms with a life of just friends with her. Almost as quickly as I decided that it was okay to be friends here, our arms were linked and all the “friends” stuff was out the window. We walked like that, arm in arm all the way back to her apartment, talking about our lives, the past few years, the movie, the food, and how great it was to see each other again. I felt something in the pit of my stomach the moment that her front door had gotten within sight, but I was in no capacity to make up something on the fly to give us more time. The truth of the matter was there wasn’t enough time in the world, so I stayed silent. We eventually got to her door and I didn’t know if I was getting the “kiss goodnight” vibe or not so we kind of just made small talk for the first time all night. We hugged goodbye and I held along as long as I could without raising suspicion and watched her walk in as the door swung shut behind her. I didn’t know how to feel. I think I had convinced myself that if I had kissed her I would have had my answer either way, and I would have been able to get on my flight the next day content one one or another. I lingered a few seconds longer and turned to leave, when I heard the door swing back open. I was bull rushed as I felt both of her arms being thrown around my neck and she pushed her lips on mine. I had kissed plenty of women before and I had felt sparks, but the fireworks that emanated from this were like nothing I had ever experienced. It was like I was having my first kiss all over again, but the right way, with the right girl. It lasted maybe four seconds, which felt like an eternity to me and her arms retreated from the back of my neck. She thanked me for the night and was back in the house, the door swinging shut behind her like it had done before. I couldn’t help but smile because It had been confirmed, I was in love. One thing that I also knew and often put in my own art was the notion that someone can be right for you, but just not right now. And that was okay, we both had lives to get back to and people to lift up to greatness or die trying. It was a great night and I Imagined what life would have been if I had banged on the door until there was an answer. Told her how I felt and she had felt the same way, Like the stuff of fairytales. It’s okay though, she had art to make, and I had a flight to catch, and until it was our “right now”, that was okay.

When I was seventeen I distinctly remember thinking that by twenty-two years old that the “fun” part of my life would essentially be over. Not just the fun I guess, but like the excitement of it all. The stuff you see in movies, with the girl you’ve known forever and your parents are best friends just quietly making bets on when you’ll both realize it’s been each other all along. That was probably the most frequent because it kind of disqualifies itself if you don’t have that situation in your life from an early age. Or bumping into someone you didn’t see in the hallway but when you look up and lock eyes its the beginning of something breathtaking or even heart breaking. Either way I just thought that I was going to have to settle for all of that being over. I think it was partly due to the fact that so many people have this unspoken timeline that they feel they have to follow where you graduate highschool and go to college or start a job and you have those four years to do whatever it is you want to do before you have to trade in the spontaneity that makes life so worth living for the monotony that most people steer themselves right into. I also think that it’s because no matter who you are or were, being young is glorified in the media, not just nowadays. The way that movies like the breakfast club and pretty in pink shine such an unrealistic light at what your life is supposed to look like in highschool. That it should be the best time of your life. And sure there are some that take place in college and the occasional ensemble movies where the characters are considerably older than highschool age. What I did notice though is there is always the character who is deemed the one who needs to “grow up” maybe he isn’t married or doesn’t have some steady career yet and his friends fault him for it and his arc includes finding love and a passion. When in reality I think that those are the envy of all their respective friends, when it comes to real life. I think the most empowering thing in the world is to be able to admit you don’t know what you want to do with your life. Yet, but more importantly to admit that it’s okay not to know. Now at twenty-four I feel younger than I did at nineteen which I never would have expected. It’s made me so excited to get older each year because of all the opportunities that life really has to offer. Of course it isn’t lost on me that I have friends who are starting careers, having children and getting married and I’m happy for them. It just really isn’t what I want, I think about the descriptions for the movies like the breakfast club and the common trend is “ coming of age”. Usually they’re in their adolescence, and if there is a movie about an older group of friends I don’t ever see the “coming of age” tag because I think someone decided that when you’re younger doing stupid things and falling for the right people at the wrong time or the wrong people at the right time is all part of growing up. But when you do those same things at thirty it’s immaturity. I honestly take it personally when people insinuate that I should give up a chance at my “ coming of age” years just because they might happen ten years later than they think they should’ve. Whether you agree or disagree we all know somebody that fits that mold and we all have our own feelings about what they should do. The beauty of it is it’s all in their control to each, for them to own.

Do you remember making paper snowflakes as a kid?  Like it was really just something that would occupy time when your teacher would want to enter something in the computer or just needed to escape the monotony of telling us the same things over and over again for it only to stick a day before we are signing year books and moving on to the next.  I mean I’m sure you remember how it goes you fold it hotdog style then again into a small square and you start to chip away at it.  It was a spectrum of how they turned out but on the safe end it was the kids that maybe cut it four or five times because as much as they wanted it to turn out cool they feared the failure even more to open it and have it tear or not even resemble a snowflake because of all the cuts and alterations made in route to their snowy masterpiece.  Then there were the kids who went balls to the wall because if it couldn’t be amazing it would give its everything in the attempt and when they opened it and it tore they were okay because they gave it their all and that’s really what the point was i think.  This memory, is forever tainted.  It’s defiled and disgraced and honestly it’s just sad now.  Because of you.  Because you felt that you could steal my innocence, you thought that I wanted you to destroy any chance of me having a meaningful relationship with another human being.  Maybe you’re right.  I definitely want my skin to crawl every time I get a lingering stare or a tap on the shoulder.  Not even so much in fear but in disgust because everybody is just like you.  Nobody really cares about what they want its about what you want.  It doesn’t matter how many people go to the ends of the earth to prove that they care about me.  The evidence doesn’t matter because in one fell swoop it can become all but inadmissible.  But see thats the fucked up part its not that I’m numb so of course I understand that people also relied on me to be there for them, my mother to be her daughter my sister to be her keeper.  To be the one she needs when even the smallest situation occurs.  Once upon a time i was the strongest person that I knew.  I wasn’t afraid to love I wasn’t afraid to need and I wasn’t afraid to fall because I knew that no matter what i would be better for it.  I knew all that, or i thought i did.  Thanks for creating my rational fear of the real world.  A world where people just take what they want because somewhere along the line they rationalized that it was owed to them.  Thank you for showing me that kindness is forever a weakness that no matter how someone seems they’re liars.  Just like you.

I think about When you slammed the door behind me, and you actually gave me something to be thankful for because I know that that sound, that gust of wind from the door marked the last moment I was me. When you had your hands around my wrists as if I was resisting arrest you casted your shadow into my light. And as you used the other hand to pin my waist down while you put your knee into my stomach, when you used your free hand to force my legs spread open, you stripped me of my innocence. As if it was the sticker on fruit that we just often peel away with our thumbs and never even know where it ends up because it wasn’t important to what we wanted but it’s the only thing that piece of fruit has that shows that it’s not just a number that even though there are many like it, its untouched. It’s unique, or it was. When you struggled to get my pants from around my waste you showed me what evil was, as you struggled and i fought kicking and thrashing, because as you know you had both of my wrists, it only breathed life into your sick vendetta when through the cracks of light shown through the blinds i now know why were closed i saw a smile, as if you had just been made the happiest man in the world. It was the purest form of vile to be overjoyed at the obliteration of my innocence, my happiness. When i managed to look into your eyes, which I did so to at least hold on to the part of me that wasn’t going to be afraid the part that never imagined her first time like this but also believed that it always shaped how you felt about life after no matter they circumstances I didn’t see a coward I didn’t see a evil entity I saw my mother, my sister my friends all come and fade away because who they thought they knew is a distant memory now. All of us are snowflakes. Everyone of us, and the things that happen to us in life define us, they give us or little cuts and alterations, some people like to settle with only a four or five alterations so that when they open up for someone its a safe bet they aren’t going to be scared of what they see even if there’s more left to be desired. Then there’s the ones who have all kinds of intricate cuts and rips and are all masterpieces in their own right when they choose to be opened up. Sometimes they are a little too much and sometimes people wont understand their beauty but that’s okay because their beauty is in the attempt. Then you have the ones like me. Who has been ripped and cut and torn so much that any false move or maybe even a flawless execution still leaves me ripped apart when I’m opened up but that’s my fault right? For believing in the good in people. Never again.

I’ve always loved New Years, honestly it’s probably because of the movie that had so many A-list stars that they all began to lose their significance. I loved the movie because i’ve always loved anything that had to do with ensembles. Like the plethora of intertwining stories and what it was centered around wouldn’t matter so much to me if the 31st of December wasn’t one of two most important days of my life. My mother Erica Webb was born on New Years Eve and honestly I hated that for most of my life. If only because I couldn’t do what I thought was important that night. Like partying, and finding someone to have that kiss with. The one you see when you watch the ball drop in Times Square and you know that there’s people out there that are Slaves to the moment rather than people who actually know each other. I know that could seem weird when I’m talking about my mom as well, but until the last couple of years that wasn’t what it was about for me. I love New Year’s Eve because I always would hear about “ New Year’s resolutions” and how it was “ my year” and whether that was true or not it reminded me of all of the lessons my mom taught me. Not so much with what she said but with how she conducted her life. I always tell people she’s the most confident person I’ve ever met. She would wear a tiara on her birthday every year and I thought about it from the outside seeing a grown woman with her husband and four kids out to eat, definitely would have been interesting to say the least. But she did so every year without fail and I guess I never really understood it, because although nobody’s life is perfect all year we had some rough ones. You’d never know it when it came to the last day of the year. One of the reasons I love New Years so much, although it may be a cliche, is that it really is a new beginning for everybody, and the entire body of work amassed throughout the year, good or bad doesn’t make it any less true. I love New Year’s resolutions because I think that they embody my mother in the best way. She came into the world in the midst of a worldwide celebration, I don’t know how anybody could not feel the way she does on that day. She taught me that being confident or being happy isn’t a switch you flip, but a choice you make everyday and my mom always makes the choice to try. I remember the year she lost her mother, and how when the new year came she still looked at it the same way she always had. The beauty a lot of the time is in the attempt, knowing that it might not work out, but believing that it’s still worth it because most of the time it’s all we really have. Every year on the eve of a new one my mom showed me time and time again what it meant to believe in something, that things can get better, that everything that happened previously doesn’t define you. Most importantly, even if it doesn’t get better, it’s okay as long as you’re trying. Our relationship has a lot to unpack not unlike many people with their mothers, but I’ve said it before that every opportunity that I get I’m going to show both of my parents that they raised somebody who understands. I always saw it as a punishment to not be able to go with my friends having nights with people that they most likely won’t even talk to in five years. And while I agree that making those memories are significant I realize now, being so far away for the third year in a row that I’d give anything to be watching her bring in the new year like it was specifically coming just for her. My mother is everything that’s good in the world, and some stuff that isn’t but she tries, and she deserves to wear her crown and have all eyes on her because it is her day. And the whole world celebrates it with her, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“ It’s kind of funny, well wait. Not funny because that might actually be the worst word you can use in the presence of people in mourning. But I guess I meant… ironic, in the sense that I always used to get so upset when I would see people making someone else’s death about them. You know what I’m saying, like how sad they are or how hard it is for them. I was always under the impression that if something happens that shakes your entire world to its core you wouldn’t have to broadcast your emotions. That either people would be too nervous, or that they would just see and understand that it isn’t something that “ I’m sorry for your loss” or especially “ I know how you feel” could begin to touch what it was that had died inside them when they lost that person. But then I was asked to do this, amongst all of her loved ones, and people whose entire fabric of reality tore at the seams when they realized she was no longer here. I was mad at first, at myself, at who asked me, at a lot of things honestly but I think it was because how I just said I’d always felt about others making the loss of a life about them. After I had gotten over myself, I took some time to think about what I would actually say. It’s easy to scribble down little anecdotes when there is no immediate audience. Nobody that you’re trying to reach, or comfort. And I actually had something written out and I thought that it would be good enough, or at least get the job done. It was about how I had really first interacted with her because she had almost run me over. And maybe it would have gotten a few laughs, but as I stand up here in front of you. It just seems, for lack of a better word. Cheap. Which is why I couldn’t understand why I was chosen because I didn’t have a plethora of stories and memories that I could just spew from the mouth like so many of you all. So again I wondered: why me? Whenever I have trouble thinking I tend to listen to music and I just let the playlist go because I know that whatever is meant to reach me will. And as luck, or maybe some other higher power would have it, something did. It was actually a Taylor Swift song, and It wasn’t really something that was super important in the song, but she talked about how she didn’t understand why she felt like she had missed you all this time. The person the song was about I’d imagine, but it stuck with me. It didn’t make sense, you know? To miss someone that you’d never known, but for some reason I couldn’t get it out of my head. It wasn’t until right now that It finally clicked. As I look at all of you, some with tears in your eyes, some fighting them back. And I think about why I don’t feel that inherently, why it would almost feel forced. But the reason is because I missed everything. What made her laugh, what made her cry, where she was when she realized that everything she’d wished for was coming true. Or more importantly where she was when it all came crashing down. You know, I didn’t understand Why there was some part of me that knew you wanted to be loved or cared about but it’s because it wasn’t in the way she acted all the time. It was just the remnants of who she had been and continued to be, just subtly. I see all of you people and I feel terrible for being jealous. Jealous of all of you because the way you knew her is emanating from the inside out. You don’t even have to try because the impact she made on you is forever lasting, and I only got a taste of it. But I think that might be why I was the right person to speak. Not because I wanted to make it about me, and certainly not because I knew her the best. But, because out of everybody I was someone who could appreciate where I was in this situation. I’m not Suffocated by grief, so through it all I still see everything that she was becoming because to me it was all new. It breaks my heart that I won’t get to see everything she was going to become, but I also understand that I’m better for knowing her, the same as all of you are. I hope that nothing I said brought you any more pain because I know it’s insurmountable. I guess I’m hoping that it brought you some comfort because the pain you feel from the loss Is only because of how amazingly she lived, and still lives in all of you.

As she stared through the glass of her front door, I think that she found herself torn. She was extremely anxious but the why was smothered with ambiguity. Was it because she couldn’t wait for them to show? Or because she was hoping they had more courage than her. To have actually picked up the phone and conjured some story about why they wouldn’t be able to attend. Her children that it is, there were four of them, and honestly she couldn’t remember the last time they had all been to the house at the same time. Mary had been a young mother, having given birth to her fourth child before the age of thirty. Her life had been a whirlwind of diapers, and sleep deprivation although as the years went by that would be for different reasons. All the same she had lived a life with four times the intensity, but it was never her own. When her youngest Tyler had left her she was again split between feeling relieved and terrified simply for the fact that her life for the first time in decades would be entirely her own. Mary, a woman of many talents that she had attempted to nurture in her own right, while navigating ever changing adolescence that had been different for all four of her children. A champion amongst champions in that regard, she seemed all but superhuman while holding the mantle of stay at home mother. In the midst of all that, even if she loved them with every fiber of her being she couldn’t shake the perpetual feeling of resentment that she possessed due to the monotony of her life. And it had shown, not all the time but enough for her children to make up their own minds as to how they viewed her. This was most likely the reason she was so torn about thinking of all her children under one roof. The same roof that held millions of memories, because it was their childhood home. The only one they had ever known. Mary was still mid thought when she had realized that she heard snow being broken up by tires as it came around the corner. A red Toyota Camry which she knew to be her youngest Tyler. Her heart had skipped a beat, which she categorized as relief. Mary loved all four of her children but she had always felt closer to her sons more so than her daughters. Tyler had taken the throne when his older brother had abdicated from it. Well at least in her husband’s eyes, Tyler had gone to the right schools, said all of the right things and for the most part did what he had been told. It wasn’t lost on Mary that her and Tyler’s father had been considerably more strict on the first two than they had been on the last two, but the gravity of that difference wasn’t the same in her mind as it was in her children’s. Tyler got out of the car enthusiastically as she had predicted mostly because he had only been gone for a few months whilst he had started his first year of college. Only four hours from home Mary didn’t know if that gave her peace of mind or him, but she took it for whatever it was worth. He was alone as she had told all of their children that it was to be a family-only thanksgiving but that she would loosen the reins when Christmas time came. Mary had the door already propped open despite the impending frost that was making its head way into her warm home. Tyler saw this and bolted maybe because he was thoughtful, or maybe because he was cold but whatever the reason Mary was pleased. Tyler had picked his mother up in a hug that rivaled those videos of soldiers ingsurprising their families. As he put her down he instantly scanned the room for his father. He was at his position on the couch channel surfing. William hadn’t moved an inch even as he saw the grandiose entrance that Tyler had made. In fact his first thought was about how the heat was escaping the house in the time that his wife stood with the door propped. William was inherently cold, but life has a way of cranking up the A/C on you and staying at full blast whether you are ready or not. Kind of how when you spend the night at your friends house, and you are without a blanket and you use whatever is at your disposal to stay warm. With life though it is a little different, instead of couch cushions and wthrow pillows maybe its distance and sternness. William loved all his children though, maybe it was his biggest fault. He had loved so hard, when in fact he didn’t necessarily know how to love and it kind of made it hostile in the household. Not so much for Tyler and his sister Ashley, but for the older two it was synonymous with a war zone at times. William did stand up though, because he had began to soften as he had seen the toll it had taken on his first borns. Tyler went to his dad and hugged him, he was genuinely happy to see him. Willam for all his faults had given his children something even if it was dressed as something else. William’s biggest fear was that his children would not live to their full potential and at times it kept him up at night. Not that it would have made a difference in how he acted, his goal was what it was. It wasn’t Not to be their best friends. Tyler took his seat on the couch beside his dad, and didn’t say too much. That was okay though because they didn’t necessarily have anything to talk about because although they had spent ample time together they didn’t know each other in that way. Mary still at the door relieved that her baby was home for the holidays was shortly stripped of all comfort when a white Ford Focus crept up to the driveway. Alex. Mary’s heart dropped. She didn’t have a lot of regrets in life, because she always dubbed them as something not worth dwelling over. But this was on the short list, she and Alex were not close. They never seemed to be on the same page and for a long time Mary blamed her. For not being the daughter that she had imagined in exchange for her sacrificing her youth to be a mother. It wasn’t something she was proud of but a part of her couldn’t shake it. Alex stepped out of her car with about as much excitement as a mouse in a trap. Alex felt the same way, she almost laughed out loud to herself. To willingly walk into the lion’s den that had been the bane of her adolescence. To be greeted by the rmother lion herself. She wondered why she hadn’t been able to get out of it, I mean she was completely capable and not to mention not a child anymore. There would be virtually no ramifications if she had and her mother most likely would have been relieved. Alex loved her mother, but maybe only because she was supposed to. They had never gotten along and her mother had been almost cruel to her growing up. Alex knew why now, but as a child that sees her friends’ mothers being their best friend to go home to her own was brutal. Alex stepped into the warmth and didn’t exactly know what to do, maybe she was supposed to hug her mom but she didn’t feel that level of affection for her. She never had. Mary greeted her and did her best to not be dry, but it was strange. When she thought about Alex and their years together she wanted nothing more than to have that hallmark moment and reconcile. But when Alex was in her presence all those feelings from the past bombarded her and she couldn’t push them out. William had always had a soft spot for her girls even if only one felt the same way. He still was extremely cold, but Alex always felt a sense of duty to his wishes. She wanted to please him more than anything in the world. She had even wasted some years of her life following the plans that he had laid out for her. Partly because William had a way of making it seem like the only option, but also because she just wanted him to be proud of her. Willam and Alex hugged the way that Mary had wished she could, and she went into the kitchen. Not to help cook because Alex could have botched making ice, but for a completely different reason. Alex and Tyler had a ten year difference between them. When you look at it that way it doesn’t seem so drastic, but when you consider that when Alex graduated highschool Tyler was in single digits. Between being a teenager and the war zone that was her childhood she didn’t really feel up to dealing with an eight year old. She and Tyler were virtually strangers, she did love him but again it could be along the same reasons that she loved Mary. Because she was supposed to. Tyler didn’t even stand to hug his sister, because honestly he thought that she was virtually a stranger. He always thought about how weird it was to be around someone who knew more about your life than you did, other than your parents. He had been so young when she moved out, that she was like an idea that was forever on the tip of your tongue. Tyler was really waiting for his brother Will. He was coming from the city and didn’t have a car so he was using an app to acquire a ride. To Tyler, Will was larger than life. Will had done so many things in his life that Tyler would have deemed unthinkable and he admired him for it. They had shared a room for the majority of his young life, so the eight years between them in age didn’t really make a difference. Tyler and Will had been adversaries most of their life, or Will’s life I should say. By the time Tyler started really solidifying memories Will was older and treated Tyler like he was the best thing under the sun. Anything Tyler had wanted Will had tried to make happen, at the expense of his own well being a lot of the time. Willam Sr. was the anxious one now though, he saw Mary rise up on her toes indicating that the third of their clan had arrived. Will was in a good mood, as always because that was the kind of person he was. Mary had no doubt imagined him talking with the driver who he had known for maybe all of an hour and swearing they were the best of the best of friends. Will was always like that, now for himself but before because of Mary. She edparaded him around because he was in a sense the golden child for a time in their lives. People liked him, even if he gave both of his parents headaches with the things that came out of his mouth sometimes. He just had this charisma that was contagious; you couldn’t help but smile around him. That was also what caused his problems with William Sr.. Will’s dad had valued him as a prized possession and made him work harder than any of the other kids because his greatness was the most evident. But also because of his ability to seemingly get what he wanted when he wanted it, he was afraid that Will would rely on this instead of hard work. Will had a belief that people were inherently good, he had been through different things in his life that all supported this notion. His father didn’t share the same idea, though maybe he was coming around. He still didn’t know exactly how to act around his son. Will was excited to be home, he loved his family, not in spite of all their faults but because of them. He thought that they were the greatest people on the planet even if they didn’t feel the same way about him. Will had hugged his mom not with the same fruition that Tyler had because even though his mother had been his biggest fan she also had said some of the most hurtful words. Will had turned to look at his father who for a time in his life had been the most polarizing figure in his life. The intelligence, the determination, his father was second to none. He was also the coldest to him, and it left Will with so much hate and resentment toward him. Will had acted accordingly as well, getting into trouble and rebelling. It wasn’t all for his father though, he cared for his younger sister and brother with his life, and if he had fallen in line with his father he believed that he would have never changed. Now of course Will had gone overboard, but part of it was coming from a good place. And he had seen the difference in the way his parents child rearing techniques had matured. William Sr. got up to greet his first born son of the same name. He looked well, and happy and that touched the sore spot inside of him, but the only way that he could stand to have a relationship with his son was to push the past down. Will seemed to be the only one okay with that tactic and he was proud of the man he had become. Following his dreams of being a writer even though it was something that William Sr himself had never even known he wanted to do. Or maybe he just had blocked it out, but for better or worse this was the reality. Tyler jumped up and instantly started to joke playfully with his older brother. They had spent so much time together that they were on the same page in such a way that it seemed a work of fiction. William Sr had to push down the feelings of anger when he witnessed their comradery, because for so long he had forbidden it. Not to the extent that he had with Will and Ashely, but he didn’t like that Tyler respected Will’s opinion with such ferocity. For so long their father had not approved of the way Will thought and lived his life that he didn’t believe he should be giving life advice to anybody. Let alone his children, but he knew that it came in one way or another so he stomached it. Will and Tyler, fell right back into step but they knew that they weren’t complete. Ashely had yet to show, which was no surprise. Will had bet with Tyler that she wouldn’t even show up because of her disdain for both of their parents. Just like clock work as Will was telling Tyler in their nonverbal communication that they had developed through the years of sharing a room. Mary again was on her toes. This time Mary looked distraught, and by process of elimination Tyler and Will both knew the reason. Ashely had gotten out of her car, with her face showing exactly what was on her mind. She hated being home. She didn’t have the joy that Tyler had or the forgiveness that Will did. She was pissed whenever she had to see them both. She like Will, was in the middle and although four years his junior they both were middle children and she more than all of them remembered both sides of her parents. It only served to piss her off more when they started to change because she couldn’t just get over it and pretend it hadn’t been the way it was. As she approached the door Mary had stepped back because there was no way a hug was in the cards between them. Well honestly with any of mthem because she wasn’t a hugger but also didn’t have the warmest feelings about her mother. Tyler and Will were ecstatic to see her though. Alex the oldest and Will had virtually no relationship, even though they were the closest in age there was a disconnect. Alex was that way with all of the younger siblings. But Will, Tyler and Ashley were the dream team. The jokes and the friendship were unmatched by anybody you could imagine. Will and Ashley had the most special bond though, because of how the father had a soft spot. The way that he forbid Will to talk to Tyler paled in comparison to the restrictions put on his and Ashley’s relationship. William Sr did not make it a secret that he longed for a relationship with his daughters, and though Alex did her best Ashely was severely disinterested. A long with the revisionist history that he exercised when it came to their upbringing came a lot of misguided notions. The biggest was that the sole reason for the lack of relationship with Ashley was due to Will in a sense turning her against him. Which couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Will had gone through the phase in his life where he despised his parents and he had also moved passed it. Unbeknownst to his father Will was the strongest advocate for their relationship because he regretted only just now having a relationship with his father. Ashely was excited to see her brothers even if she would never openly admit it, you could just tell that her demeanor would change, and it had been years since they had all been together. Of course they fell right back in step with their inside jokes and reminiscing about their past traumas that had now been the butt of all the jokes. Mary had instantly become awkward and she resented the feeling, she loved her family but much like her husband it irked her that she felt like an outsider when it came to her three youngest. Here she was on the outside looking in once again, and there was nothing should could do about it. Mary walked into the living room and did her best not to sound spiteful as she interrupted her children to tell them that the dinner was ready. Tyler and Will exchanged looks because they both could read their mom like an open book, and she seemed as if she was caught in the middle of wanting the night to last forever and hoping it had already ended. As they made their way into the kitchen William Sr didn’t move, he didn’t usually start eating at the same time as his family no matter the occasion. As Will crossed the threshold to the kitchen he saw Alex for the first time in three years. Their relationship was extremely nonexistent, she for lack of a better word hated him. Or it had seemed for as long as he could remember, he didn’t entirely know why when he was younger and really didn’t now though he had an idea. Will had deduced that she had been mad at him for finding a way to be happy in spite of everything they had been through. He thought that in her head it had someway been easier for him than it was for her, and maybe it had been but not by too much. They took their unofficial assaigned seats that had been their spots growing up, with Will next to Tyler, across from Ashely and Alex. Mary, the machiarch of the family sat at the head of the table and William Sr was at the counter quietly eating his food. He never usually sat with the family, and they didn’t mind because he was extremely critical about everything his children did. Mary and Alex again were on the sidelines as between bites the “dream team” howled and banged the table telling each othe jokes. Mary imagined that they didn’t realize that they weren’t even speaking in full sentences just phrases and gestures and they all seemed to know what the other was saying. It should have made her proud, but again she was filled with resentment. Mary glanced at Alex and could tell she was feeling the same way, maybe more intensely because she actually their sibling. Alex had always hated the way her siblings were like one body with three heads. She would never say it out loud but she wanted to be a part of what they had. But she had just decided it was one of those things, how you spend every day of your life wishing for something to be different and Imagining how it would be if it was. Then days turn into weeks and weeks to months, and all of that longing is in the past and this is your life. Alex had to deal with it. Will loved his sister even if he barely knew her and it wasn’t lost on him that she wasn’t involved in their sibling love. And he wanted to include her but not at the expense of spending time with his other siblings because they had worked hard to get where they were and it meant the world to him. Just as it did to Tyler and Ashely. Mary had turned around to see that William Sr was no longer eating behind her and she surmised that meant the night was coming to a close. Tyler was planning on spending the night but the other children had other places they had to be that week so they would be leaving. Ashely loved being his her siblings, because they were her bestfriends. Nobody in the world had gone through specifically what they had and together at that. She had realized that found herself not wanting to go back to the real world without the people that had her back the most. But she knew that she had too whether she wanted to or not. Tyler was excited to sleep in his room again but he didn’t want his older siblings to leave either even though he knew they were going to. He had stood with them at the door to prolong it as long as he could but he could tell it was wearing thin. Ashely was the first one to go, she firmly believed that ripping the band aid off was the best way to go through life. She didn’t hug her brothers but her look said it all, she nodded at her mom and dad was off into the freezing cold. Not surprisingly Alex was next she half heartedly hugged her mom and gave her dad a hug as he remained seated in his chair where he had been when they had all arrived. She said goodbye to both of her brothers without making eye contact and was gone too. Lastly was Will who made it known he didn’t want to leave his brother but had to get back to the city. He went over to his dad and they exchanged nods he hugged his mother Mary sincerely and then his brother who seemed as though he was never going to let go. Will told Tyler that if he ever needed anything he should already know that he’s got him always and he made his way out the door as well. When Mary closed the door she still watched her children through the glass. Tyler had already assumed his position by his dad watching tv with him silent, but content. This hadn’t been a Hallmark holiday the way Mary always dreamed it would be but she was extremely happy nonetheless. Of course she wished that she could tell this story for years to come about how her family against all odd came back together and were a well knit clan. But that wasn’t the case, and she thought that was okay too. Family is messy, and its hard, and a lot of the time doesn’t make sense, but it’s family. The only one that you get, so it’s okay that they weren’t something out of a holiday movie. There was no big reveal and no major reconciliation, but thats not realistic. What made her happy was that what she had just been through was real, it didn’t have to be insanely eventful because it was her family. And she loved them. So as her children started the trek back to their lives in the outside world she wished them all the luck in the world, until the next time.

So a couple days ago was my fathers fifty-first birthday. For all the things to be said about my father he is the most unselfish human being I’ve ever encountered. Though it may be in many ways unorthodox it still rings true in all aspects of his life. It was the way that he loved honestly, from his family and friends to all of the people we’ve come in contact with in the many facets of our lives. Growing up his birthday was never something that we celebrated the way that I think we should’ve. I think it’s a holiday not unlike Christmas or thanksgiving, but with one major difference. All those other holidays are for you and everybody else, whereas your birthday is for you, to celebrate another year in a life well lived. I think I might have been a teenager before I asked why my mom always acted like it was her day because although my mom is royalty in her own regard it was my dad’s birthday. Then I was informed that it was also their anniversary. Which blew my mind because if you know my mom you could understand how your birthday would become a sideshow to a day dedicated to her getting married. And honestly I still don’t know why it went down that way but it did. Maybe my dad wanted to marry someone he loved on his birthday because it meant that much to him. Or maybe he just wanted it to be on a day that he wouldn’t ever forget but whatever the reason we are where we are. So this is in two parts because as I said there are two major events that took place on October 8th. The second is dedicated to my parents as a whole, maybe more of a thank you note. I guess I want to start by thanking them for showing me what it means to be in a partnership, and what it is supposed to look like when you’re with the person you’re going to be with the rest of your life. I saw thick and I most definitely saw thin and through it all even if they didn’t realize it they clung to each other in the best and worst ways. I want to thank them for allowing me to become the hopeless romantic I am because through all of single parent households and children of divorce I was never really worried about it because every day no matter what happened they would go to their fortress that was their room and decide how to champion through any situation. Especially the ones I put them through, because although I had fun it wasn’t lost on me the toll it took on them. I remember talking to someone once and she asked me about my parents and although she isn’t prevalent in my life anymore what she said is what really opened my eyes to world wind relationship that is Juan and Erica Webb. She told me that there’s nobody else on the planet who could deal with them besides each other. So my parents will always be together. And it didn’t sound bad at all when I heard it put that way because if you knew them you understood how true the statement really was. There are a million ways I could thank them and I want too but I’ll leave them with one more. I want to thank you with my entire being for showing me what it truly means to be In love with your best friend. So this year and all the others before and to come. Happy birthaiversary.

I’m not exactly old enough to remember but a while back I was watching a comedian who referenced “missed connections” as the preface for his next joke. I was intrigued by the punchline so I decided to look into it more. When I researched and when I say researched I literally just typed it into google I got a lot of hits. The most relevant alluded to people on craigslist posting about how they saw someone or met someone that they were interested in, but maybe didn’t have the time, or were too shy to get the person’s information. I mean nowadays just from a name and a little determination you can find someone on some form of social media, so it isn’t as urgent for us to push for it from the actual person. With all that being said I still don’t think that I understood why, if you were so interested enough to post online for everybody to see why not seize the moment when you were in front of them. I know that is easier said than done though, but still. Though recently I saw one that interested me. It was a man not to much older than me but it wasn’t the typical situation I had seen with the other posts. It wasn’t that he saw her on a subway or in the cereal aisle of a store. He had seen her dancing at a bar, and I know most people would be quick to turn up their nose or talk about how they would never want to meet the person they could spend their lives with in an environment like that, because most people don’t need it spelled out for them, why we go to bars or clubs that is. But what caught my attention was how the man described the woman. “ I looked up and although I was intoxicated seeing as it was my second bar of the night, I was instantly sober. She had the kind of beauty that was extremely subtle and maybe it was because she was so unaware of the effect she had on the rest of the room.” He also said that he didn’t believe in love at first sight per say but he did believe in seeing someone and getting the feeling that you have to know more about them. “ I decided I had to walk up to her, no matter the situation, because if I didn’t, thinking about what I would have said would keep me up many more nights than if I had just gotten rejected outright. Even though it was dark I was instantly taken by her. She was open in a weird way that I couldn’t quite place at the moment. She also informed me that she wasn’t much of a dancer but yet was on the floor with everybody else. I danced with her and it was more rom-com than any movie I’d ever seen. She was funny and the conversation flowed effortlessly”. See, when I had gotten to this point I checked the category of what I was reading again because I definitely didn’t seem like the other “missed connections” that I had read. Barring this I continued on “ we finally got the chance to sit down and again she was more open then most telling me about being a nurse and how she was from Chapel Hill with a parent from Oak park Michigan. Again I was surprised by her openness, but then something hit me. She had said that she might not remember everything that I was telling her about my life and it made me realize that she was under the impression that I would never talk to her let alone see her again after tonight.” So it made sense that she would be open with someone that she never was going to come into contact with again. That wasn’t my impression though I think that life is what happens when you’re busy making plans, and if you assume that your life won’t happen to you at any moment then you won’t be ready when it inevitably does.” So when I got to this part I assumed that the man left right then and maybe regretted leaving and the post was a last ditch effort to reach out to a girl that he missed but barely knew. Of course I was wrong. “ Maybe it was the romantic in me but something told me that there was a part of her that felt the same thing that I did. That the fluidity in our conversations, the way we were able to carry on in the midst of the people and the music meant something different. Not like another random rendezvous at a bar like most people expect when they go out. When it was time to leave I left with her and her friends although she didn’t exactly ask she also wasn’t pushing me away. So I went and again it was reminiscent of “ 500 days of summer” in the way that we walked along the sidewalk talking and joking in the mindless way that you only find scripted in the movies.” Now, as emotionally invested as I was, I had to know how it ended, because right now it seems like they’re probably still holed up in a bed or on a couch telling each other everything about themselves. Though this obviously couldn’t be the case because here I was reading about his “missed connection” on the internet. “ When we got to the final bar of the night we already had a level of comfortability that sometimes takes weeks to form, still laughing and joking but nothing farther than that. Until I decided I needed to take a chance, but I just had to wait for my moment. As we sat there another man had taken notice of this beautiful woman who must have thought she was undercover as a nun or something because It didn’t surprise me at all. She then gave me an opening as we sat there. Telling me about how someone was staring and I took the opportunity to suggest we send him a message that she was taken. And I got to kiss her. Now I don’t want to say fireworks but it was nice, no pressure just doing what felt natural.” So by now I’m virtually in tears because I love a happy ending, but the bar at the right side of my screen that indicates how much you have to scroll quickly robbed me of any feelings of finality. “ She started to yawn which in most cases indicates that someone is tired, and she said as much and that she was going to go home. Of course the only reason I was even out this late was because I wanted to spend more time with her so I said I was leaving too. As I walked out I saw her get into the elevator that exited out to the street. As I stopped at the door I saw that it was just us. And I couldn’t help but take the moment to kiss her again, like I had seen so many times in movies and tv shows and for what felt like hours had only lasted a few seconds because the door opened one floor below where we had gotten on.” Now at this point I don’t want to finish because this dude was really breaking my heart, but obviously I had too. “ When the elevator reached the bottom floor I didn’t know what was going to happen, I mean at 4 a.m I didn’t necessarily have a destination seeing as I was miles away from where I lived. I decided to walk her home because It was late and you never know who’s outside at night. As we walked I realized that the night was coming to a close so I attempted to get her phone number. I was successful, although reluctantly, but I also knew I didn’t want to try to go home with her because it wasn’t about that for me. I hailed a taxi and of course offered it to her which she declined, but there was something on her face that told me that she didn’t want the night to end at least half as much as me but it had too eventually.” Now I don’t think that anybody is owed anything but I do think that people have a right to feel what they feel. I think the reason this one stuck out so much to me was because it was different, two people put themselves out there more than most and they rode it until the end. I just don’t think that it ended when the night did, and hopefully for him it didn’t. “ I don’t say this because I’m obsessive or possessive and it most definitely could have been one sided. But I do think that I need to show that you weren’t just someone that I met in a bar, even though it might be a little thing I find that sometimes they make all the difference.