How different would things be?
How different would things be,
if I’d acted on the voice in my head that night? I remember it like it was yesterday. One of the most broken months in my life, each day trying to walk on with each step screaming of summer’s pain. But he served as a some kind of sweet, sticky distraction, the only person I knew who could momentarily snatch that sourness away. But that’s what scared me, knowingly falling into another pair of open arms who could leave me in the same crippled state that I was currently in.
But all that’s left me with is unanswered questions.
