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There’s a possibility
That I might feel free
And I find myself to be
Oddly, rather happy
I steal time, smiling
And I rather like laughing
But after all, it’s only a possibility

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I was amazed at the words coming from my mouth. He had stunned me so, I thought myself unable to even process any kind of thought, let alone speak. He told me his secret–his one, deep dark secret that no one else knew–but it was more than just that. He had trusted me enough to share. He trusted me.

But I couldn’t trust him. So I had to lie.

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The leaves of the willow whipped around me as I fell to my knees. I couldn’t believe you were gone. I had been denying this fact for too long now and had almost come to believe that it was true, but this tree–this willow–brought me to the harsh reality. You were gone. You were never coming back.

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I could admit that I was wrong, but wouldn’t that go against everything I am? I thought you found that…enduring. I’m always right, even when I’m wrong. No? You just find that annoying? My fatal flaw? Perhaps it is, but you’d never catch me admitting as much. Perhaps it’s only enduring in my mind.

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The final nail in the coffin was that strange look you gave me when you said goodbye. It wasn’t a “Goodbye, can’t wait to see you again.” It was a look that said “Goodbye, forever.”

I hate those looks. But worse, I hate giving those looks. I’ve only had to give one of those nail in the coffin looks, and it’s been haunting me ever since.

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To be a practical person would practically be impossible. Practicing my impeccable penchant for preposterous poppycock is what I primarily live for.

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