Une impasse;

What is wrong with the blogging community? That means you, Literate Four.
Blog more. Run more. Yearn after departed boyfriend less = Spring break.

Today, was a good day in many aspects. Spent it with one of my favorite people, in one of my favorite places, doing some of my favorite things (me being a real teenage girl in secret.)

But I don't want to blog about that; it would probably be too straightforward. And shady. Just Oh, so shady.

I think about it all the time. It consumes me with its obscene punctuation, its piercing definition throbbing in the back of my head like a migraine that just won't go away; the horrid and terrible pretense of a reality lacking the living, beating part of my heart. Or, let's say lungs. Or circulatory system. Plus nervous system. No, my entire genetic code. Yes. That's the part of me that makes me, me, so it makes the most sense for this metaphor...Or lack thereof.
The cliffs of maybe. The swooping sensation of what if. The pressing anvil of never and probably not. You know. That stuff.
But what if? What if it worked? What if everything just goes swell and perfect and I live to live with it and you live to live without and we play the game instead of the soap opera? Too good to be true. I'm too cynical for that.
But not cynical enough to believe it completely.
That's my problem. I think I live on a fence. I am permanently glued to the fence. My feet are firmly planted, my head's on straight and my eyes are focused, albeit crooked. I just can't look down, because then I would see how precarious a balance I stood on, and fall either which way.
Fifty fifty chances.

But for now, no more.

For now, come home.