so sometimes you drink a few with your ex-boyfriend 

& end up back at his place arguing over a matthew broderick role 

& so obviously

you leave 

instead of inevitably sharing a sexless bed with him. 

& then you're driving home & "all that she wants" by ace of base starts playing & 

it all seems so perfectly meaningful &

you realize that you're exactly almost too drunk to drive.

& then you're home & so so so so glad

that you folded all that clean laundry that was sitting on your bed earlier today. 

so somedays you wander around the internet for a second and you think:

wow, i have a blog. i can post things on it.

and then somedays you have to pee really bad when you're driving and you call your best friend and she answers even though it's past midnight her time and you realize you need to call her more because you guys, more than most people, know how to fucking say the shit that the other needs to hear. 

and some other days you wonder about the boy in the city with the snow and come up with the perhapses that could've made your life and his fit more snug-like, the shoulds and the sighs and the so ons. and then you realize that if you 

packed up your pride, drove the twelve hours, knocked on his door shouting "i'm here i'm here, i came back for you", chewed your nails on his doorstep already content in the perfect life you'll live together from now on, and then watched the door open 

to a much fatter, smellier him, 

that you wouldn't love him the same anymore. 

and you spend half a week feeling like a terrible superficial bastard piece of shit but then you get the fuck over it. 

we're all just

a bunch of tiny things stuck to

a giant expode-able rock.

(it's true, & it matters.)

so it begins & so on.

leaving well enough alone has never been a strength of mine.