On the taxi ride home, focusing straight ahead to alleviate my motion sickness, one thought led to another and I inevitably thought about Things, the What Could Have Beens. When my thoughts drift to you, sing Band of Horses. How I came close to attaining it but me being me, of course I didn’t. That’s just my life, isn’t it? Not a fucking bed of roses, it isn’t. I mean, when I was 19 and no one else’s mother died, mine did. Things happen to me that don’t happen to my peers. Hence the opposite is also true. I just thought a break would be nice. And not to mention timely. But no, of course not. It exploded in my face even before it took off, through no fault of my own or anyone’s, really. That’s the way it seems to go for me. I hate to admit it but I would have liked the social status that came with the accomplishment. I would never say it out loud like the other girl, but privately, I would be smug as all hell. I would’ve been good with it though. I wouldn’t abuse it and turn into a complete twat. It would’ve been much more than that for me. Much, much more. But whatever good I would’ve done with it, it didn’t matter. That I would have been smug at all was too much for the universe. For if anyone’s not allowed to be smug, it is me.
And so it is.