Why the hell wouldn't you move? Just go already. Go. Something in her eyes was so sincere, it felt as though the idea were entirely new to me, and it seemed so simple. What are you waiting for? and I stared into my beer with tingles up my spine. My boss looked at me the other day and said maybe this'll be a good kick for you to go; this is not what you want to be doing forever. You realize people are living their lives by magazine print and rule books but maybe you don't have to even though it's hard to remember. You shuffle around a dirty apartment but at least the life you live is yours.
The days at the office provide a few hours of refuge; you relish putting on clean clothes, having coffee breaks, making small talk, sorting papers, as though you were perfectly normal and you would go home later to dinner and order, to going to bed on time and instead you fall asleep just before morning and miss your alarm. The feeling creeps back as you climb the steps to the door, you return to a cavern of solitude, of dread, but of words, and you love their greeting you at the door.
Time does not run out, the money does not run out, it is merely the fates conspiring for you, they lead you to the place you cannot go on your own. Already you are saying your goodbyes, already you are bracing for the storm.
We decide not to jump off the bridge. There are bigger leaps, to be taken.
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