I retract what I said.


I made it to exit twenty-two and I made the phone call.
I kicked my boots off as I tore into the driveway
dropped my bag and keys at the door and I walked toward someone that wasn't me.
I told my head to shut up and I collapsed and I cried and everything I held in I let out.

Crying is weird, it's unfamiliar and it's... different. I'm not good at it and I naturally excel at (almost) everything I do. Not crying. Not talking. I can't remember the last time I cried before today.




They are my people.
The two of them.
And my awkward, mouth-breather of a dog.