At Full Speed.

I wish I had a story to tell. I wish I had a story I was dying to translate from mind, to lips and fingertips. Do you ever just want to write something that won't leave a single reading eye dry by its conclusion? Do you ever just want to say everything you've ever held back, no matter how much time has aged it and removed it from memory? I've been cursed, maybe blessed, with an excrutiatingly strong ability to remember. What I had for breakfast three days ago, if I tried hard enough, what happened to me on significant dates.

Dates. The tricky thing about remembering everything and associating it with its slot in the calendar year is that with every month or two or three or four or week or year you remember again. Like that week. It ended eight days ago, and for nine days before it, I remembered. Every second of every day. I remembered grilled cheese and ice cream and day long video games and a yellow dog and a wet driveway and a chlorine covered t-shirt. July 20th had me breathing clean air. Today I remember the way things were three months ago. A mess. I learned that you were gone, farther away than 1000 miles, farther away than I could ever touch with my feet on the ground. You mended so much more than the broken hearts of everyone who lost you that day, just so you know, if you can hear me. I know you would've liked that.

Lucky numbers: 2, 10, 16. Yet 13 isn't bad luck for me, see otherwise: 6, 19, 24. So where the hell is this story I'm dying to get out? If this story's in the making, I'm giving myself nothing to write about but days on repeat and lifeless timepassers. I find light in dark, it's not much of a resolution but it makes me laugh a lot. You can tell this story, because you're giving it life. We're shameless This is what this summer is supposed to be. This is where my story is coming from. Why'd it take me this long to realize that letting go of control is everything I need?

I've been hell bent at staying positioned behind the controls of everything, every aspect, obsessive about making everything go right. This is why i sleep all day, and I'm ready to sleep when I'm dead. I'm ready for things I can't predict. Ready is the last thing I've wanted to be, but ready or not, it's how I want to be now.

Not alone, on a road going somewhere. At full speed.