A conversation. And then, as it happened, a reminiscence. Of old coke vending machines, and some talk over flowers. And days of sharing headphones. Train rides pondering the questions. Planning and watching everything fall.

One cold night, shivering for no reason, and about to do something really stupid.

I used to think that the past should serve as a means to walk forwards. These days it felt like it was tethering me back. I’m grounded at the balls of my feet, and the roots are only growing daily. Can’t lift my feet. Not going anywhere.

It was a long time ago. I keep feeling like it happened yesterday. But it wasn’t a case of not letting go. I’ve unclenched my fingers and watched it fall, but it’s that mess in the hall I’m too lazy to sweep.

I’m not making sense. But it’s midnight, and I can afford that type of leeway.