I had the words, I just didn’t want to say it. I was balancing on a tightrope of barbwire. Time and love being the pitfalls to each side. I didn’t want to stumble and splatter upon either. With the caressing step upon step motion, I would feel more pain with each stride. I began to wonder what was at the end of my ride. If I didn’t fall to either side and remained balanced for long enough to reach the end what was there? Was there even an end? Was it more life? A different life? Or even less of the life we all desired to have and give away? I felt as if I was last in line. I was a generation Z whose tide pod snack had run out just as the same happened to my bullshit twitter feed. I didn’t know what to do. I had a degree in photography, communication, and design but couldn’t do any of it. I didn’t know more than anybody else but I spent more getting that damn piece of paper. I didn’t have anything of value to show how smart I was or prepare me for the real life. People could talk to me and know I didn’t have any intelligence. I mean shit why read a book when I have hours of old vines to watch. My point, I was useless in my own mind. Continually belittling my own rash decisions with dumbness. Sure I could have focused on my book, my studies, improving my life in any constructive way I planned, but there was this girl.
This girl I didn’t mind talking to. So the night continued. I was never making progress and finding other ways to relinquish a hold I had just gotten. It was always for something new. Maybe it was the trash college town full of twenty-first-century stoners. That couldn’t have been positive. Maybe it was the group I called my friends never pushing me for betterment as I did for most of them. Fuck, maybe it was having any friends at all. I spent enough time with my dog it could have been my only friend and received a more than a fair amount of time. Then again, I’m pretty sure it was women like her. Not the ones you have to think about how you’re going to help. Not the ones who you have to construct a lesson plan for like you’re their last teacher they understood, whether it’s first or fifth grade. It’s the other ones. They aren’t the ones who you can’t explain any certain thing to without it being sent in several group texts. You know human psychology shows men wanting relationships of two main kinds. The women we can help and be a hero too. Then the strong powerful and supportive kind. The kind where you are adding to each other, not supporting. While one develops much stronger attractions one obviously comes across as the more nurturing. It had come to my attention maybe I had finally moved on from one type to the other. I had finally seen the end of the barbed wire tightrope I was walking on...