You can drive along a river at night with Orion guiding the way, and you can play music so loud that it shakes and shudders your body, and you can sit in the back seat with a kid you hardly know who is covered in scars and listen to the stories of everybody you are surrounded by, and you can be stunned by the paths that life can and will take without resignation. And we sat there huddled together by the river, with November making shivers shake up our spines, so we held eachother and talked about all the things that should have happened and things that we want to forget. And we talked about things we wished we could remember. We laughed, and I don't know about anyone else, but I wanted to cry. I sat in the warmth we made as we sat closer, and I watched the lights and shadows move like dancing bodies, thinking about how his eyes did the same when he spoke of laughter, life and love. I miss him like rain.
I've got an itch in my throat from all the screams that wanted to escape from my body like smoke and steam. I wish I could remember more about life before now and it kills me that I can't, because I need somewhere to escape to, and I need hands that will cradle me softly as they did when I was a child, and I would love for those hands to be yours. I fall asleep at night hoping that I'll wake up at home. Instead I wake up with my knuckles white and clutching at the empty sheets next to me.