The long drives, stuffed in the back seat of our Pink Rambler, in between two sisters is where I learned the art of throwing daggers with my eyes and how many songs can be sung with words like 'this' and 'that', causing the tongue to shoot in the direction of whichever sister you were mad at the time with. All the while, having an excuse in the lyrics of the song. All that, and plethora more...
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Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Awkward
It was awkward.
He wanted to say something.
He had questions.
He lacked whatever it was he needed to approach me.
I wanted to say something.
I had questions.
I lacked whatever it was I needed to approach him.
We missed an opportunity that might not come our way again.
We both walked away with something left to say and a handful or so of questions still unanswered.
It was awkward.
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