need to let go of the possibilities that are lost to me.
forever forgetting to forget the past.
i keep looking back.
don't know why.
can't turn this face or avert these eyes.
no matter how hard i try.
keep building and breaking, i say.
keep building and breaking until i no longer recognize me
and the memories of you
are too far gone to ever mean
anything.
keep building and breaking, i say.

tonight, Amy and i sat together at frijoles, struggling to keep our eyes open and to have some semblance of a conversation to catch up on each others lives.
finally, she cried "Sean! why are we old? when did we get old?!"

as i search through my mind.
as i catalog my life.
as i sort through the sordid mess of women i've known through the entirety of my existence.
i can't think of anyone i'd rather get old with.

these women aren't worth the worry.
put down the phone.
leave it alone.
you're better off driving on your own.