I could read to you. I could read to you every night while the stars greet the moon with their nightly whispers. We could open the window and with the sound of crickets chirping I could tell you stories until your eyes grow heavy with sleep. I would let you pretend that the words were written exactly for you because you deserve to be the hero. You even deserve to be the villain. When we reach the end we can sit in silence for a moment and let the heaviness that lingers with every finished book evaporate off our skin. We could start a new book, or we could reread the same one until our lips know the words even before our minds do. I could fall asleep with the book clutched against my chest. We could write our own story and pretend that a stranger knew us all too well.
I'm contradicted whether to be happy or sad right now, so I've been trying to pick happy, but it's hard.
Things are going well in general. I'm set up to graduate in the fall. My classes are going *surprisingly* well. I get to take my Senior Project with one of my favorite professors. I've just been largely talked up to the Captain at work mid-applying for a patrol postion and a RAM (Risk Assessment and Mitigation (Counterterrorism unit)) position. My brother is now back in CA, and visiting soon. The weather reached up to 70 today, and I get to coach in the morning. Gizmo has been jumping on my bed and sleeping with me at night. But, there are things that are contradicting my happiness. A major one being someone making false claims about me that
could have the potential to be career-ruining if it gets too far. Annie and Nicole went out tonight without inviting me, knowing that I had to deal with this all week and said I wanted to go out last night. I have to work what's now being considered the biggest threat in the nation since nine eleven. I'm broke. I'm lonely.
At least my bros make me happy.