Drive Home

It's funny how peaceful a drive through the city is when all the streets are vacant/void of all life.

Push off a curb and a stomp on the ground + wretched mental relapses are still not enough to breach the peace that I felt tonight, even after dwelling on foolhardy thoughts and boiling, unnecessary jealousy.

For the first time in a long time I've willingly wanted to cry, yet whether it be for joy or some other emotion, I still cannot bring myself to do it alone and sober.

Merry Christmas everybody, anybody, whomever may read this.

To the love of my life; don't go anywhere. Don't retrace your heart. Don't second guess. Be as you are, always, for I could never ask for a greater gift than the sense of self you've helped me to slowly unfold, and the love you continuously grace my soul with.