"She walked in with a well thought out scarf and a hat to cover the war torn mascara running down her cheek. I knew she was there but was not about to let the silence of the past few weeks dictate my feelings now. It was an error of communication, a battle scar stapled to the side of time, it was coming to ahead, tonight. Her angle was simple, unlike mine, one of ruined expectations, of tired phone calls at the egoist hour of 3 am. She put her head on my shoulder, just like the time at the airport, where she felt helpless in my arms and I felt that finally I had the chance to make someone feel secure. "are you to stay the night?," she asked so nonchalantly, " the city is full of life and these streets of _______ are full of life at this hour. The next thing I remember was the moment I woke up wondering if it had happened at all. The sun hit my face like an unwelcomed strike from a nemesis. was this a dream, or the beginning of a recurring nightmare. So many times I pray "God why isn't my bride here with me now." and then chances like these escape me like an autumn leaf in winters wind. She then drove off with her thrown together cotton outfit, and cheap sunglasses. What am I doing? But it was so easy to let her drive off. With all the prayers thrown to the sky I now see why God must think my words are more like helpless banter. Wishing moments like these never happened because then I could look God in the face and face the facts the The only character I have left is that of selfishness, egoism, and a strong addiction to caffeine."

- taylor reise powell

james i like this piece because everyone can formulate their own story of what happend...
so what really happened?

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