In my younger and more deceptive years, my friends gave me a reason to heal myself, inside and out. Looking out into the screen of oblivion, as if it were a green light, showing me the way to where I thought I needed and wanted to go. Every night, traveling that lone and desolate road, two yellow lines taking me to my destination. I arrive at my stop. Days become my new recurrence as fiction over takes my life. Being a fool, I had fulfilled my destiny, because that’s all anyone can be in life is a little fool. 364 ½ days of being a lovely fool, until the day struck me, like a dagger to my heart. Everything I had ever known and waited all this time for was gone, just like that in the blink of an eye, my life was retired. Years go by faster than my feet allow me to run. Reunited and it feels so good, I slowly find myself wanting to recall my past, wanting to just have a single sip from the chalice of life I once had, all the while knowing no one can repeat the past. Falling in love was my addiction, back then it didn’t seem weird to me, what I was doing, it just appeared normal, when I find myself wanting to taste fiction again, I remind myself where I once was.