We Are So Used To

When You Live As I Do, You Cannot Indulge In Jealousy. If You Do, It Will Rip You Apart.

You Went And Broke Our Lives. You Are So Much Worse Than A Cheater. You Killed Something. And You Killed It When Its Back Was Turned.

I Used To Think That When I Got Older, The World Would Make So Much More Sense. But You Know What? The Older I Get, The More Confusing It Is To Me. The More Complicated It Is. Harder. You’d Think We’d Be Getting Better At It. But There’s Just More And More Chaos. The Pieces—they’re Everywhere. And Nobody Knows What To Do About It. I Find Myself Grasping, Nick. You Know That Feeling? That Feeling When You Just Want The Right Thing To Fall Into The Right Place, Not Only Because It’s Right, But Because It Will Mean That Such A Thing Is Still Possible? I Want To Believe In That.

Yesterday Is Another World. I Want To Go Back There.

Luckily, I Always Travel With A Book, Just In Case I Have To Wait On Line For Santa, Or Some Such Inconvenience.