week 4: twist

you can never go home again.

ive written at length about this, its not the physical location, but the temporal essence of home.

its never the same, can never be the same.

since starting work at *bucks ive run into many people from my past.

plans were made, bar was visited and...

and through them have learned about others ive known.

in the " have you heard about...?" sort of way.

and from this, the other day, i get, oh i helped deliver j's child.

and my heart seized.

and my beer suddenly became my chaser.


there were so many questions i wanted to ask, stupid mundane little things that she and i had talked about at odd hours of the night regarding if we were ever to have kids.

like a name for example.

but i didnt.

ask that is.

i just couldnt help thinking about how a small part of me never really gave up hope until that moment.

and that part of me died just then.

and that nagging question of would she have kept it had it been mine.

and but for a twist of fate

the twist of the knife.

im honestly smiling right now, really.