“Good night, I’m sorry” I said.
I crawled into bed and the lights seemed to slowly fade.
I always knew that a warm shower should be taken before bed.
So I walked through the door with perfect balance, took off my shoes, and
took the keys out of the lock.
I knew the goodbye would be a difficult one because I had felt guilty- but I knew
I would look back on it, or rather, we would look back on it, and laugh about
how definitive of youth it was.
The drive home was a combination of silence, and me trying to remember
what had just happened (with the occasional conversation point).
As we walked out the front door, I heard the TV and saw light coming from
upstairs. I wasn’t as much surprised by the light as I was the TV.
Confusion, disorientation, and wondering if taking a walk earlier that day
was a good idea fills my brain. What just happened?
“Hey, wake up, we need to go home.”
I feel someone’s arms around me and wonder if they are my mothers’,
or just some perfect dream that ironically ended.