Crash

I held her closely, just glad she was alive. She cried into my shirt, and I whispered sweet nothings to her until her ride came. Her step mother arrived 10 minutes later, followed by the friends who drove me. It hurt to see her go home, but I was glad she was alive.

If you asked her to tell the story, she would exaggerate it into something silly and less romantic. She would remember things oddly, and wasn’t sentimental. Years later, she and I would break up. She would lie to me, break my trust, betray me, and ultimately cheat on me. In the end, I wasn’t far enough along in my life for her needs.