But When You're Alone In The World,

The Thing Is, You Can’t Always Have The Best Of Everything. Because For A Life To Be Real, You Need It All: Good And Bad, Beach And Concrete, The Familiar And The Unknown, Big Talkers And Small Towns.

Talk Was Cheap And Useless. Action Was What Mattered. And Me, I Was Moving. Now, Again, Always.

It Was Just One Of Those Things," I Said, "you Know, That Just Happen. You Don't Think Or Plan. You Just Do It.

I'm Sorry," I Heard Him Say Again. Then, Out Of The Corner Of My Eye, I Saw A Sudden Blur Of Movement As He Slid Out Of His Seat, Left Some Bills For The Breakfast He Wouldn't Eat, And Walked Away. And As He Did, I Thought Again Of Those Mornings In The Hallway At School, Way Back In Ninth Grade. Everything Had Started In Such Sharp Detail, Each Aspect Pronounced And Clear. Obviously, Endings Were Different. Harder To See, Full Of Shapes That Could Be One Thing Or Another, With All The Things That You Were Once So Sure Of Suddenly Not Familiar, If They Were Even Recognizable At All.

In Those First Few Hours Officially Single Again The World Seems Like It Expands, Suddenly Bigger And More Vast Now That You Have To Get Through It Alone.