Just because someone's pretty, doesn't mean she's decent.

I had stepped into his arms, showing him my raw, broken heart.

I knew this feeling, the 2 a.m. loneliness that I'd practically invented.

The first thing I did when I got inside was turn on the kitchen light. Then I moved to the table, putting my dad's iPod on the speaker dock, and a Bob Dylan song came on, the notes familiar. I went into the living room, hitting the switch there, then down the hallway to my room, where I did the same. It was amazing what a little noise and brightness could do to a house and a life, how much the smallest bit of each could change everything. After all these years of just passing through, I was beginning to finally feel at home.

Times like this it did seem real I was leaving, and even more that my family, and this life, would go on without me. And again I felt that emptiness rise up, but pushed it away. Still, I lingered there, in the doorway, memorizing the noise. The moment. Tucking it away out of sight, to be remembered when I needed it most.

If this was my instinct talking, I didn‟t want to hear what it was saying.

Maybe we were all destined to just keep doing the same stupid things, over and over again, never really learning a single thing.