She left home, a girl free.
“There is a danger in seeking perfection. I tried it once. It’s not the kind of danger that you feel riding on the back of a motorcycle or standing at the edge of a cliff. It’s the danger of a slow poison, like lead paint or the slow increase in a dose of arsenic. You don’t realize the futility of it until it’s nearly too late. The fear of the breakup was my last dose. It still calls to me sometimes, that siren song of comfort, of what was, of what could have been. I don’t listen, anymore. It’s hard to hear the sound of what might be over the symphony of everything that is right now.”
an excerpt from the short memoir i wrote for class earlier this semester. it still feels real and true.
jump in headfirst, no water left.
