Stop signs in a Broken Life.

You know why single is better when you're 19 (in Canada) because you can have chinese food, drink too much wine and not a single fuck will be given. Sorry for the language, but seriously I wish at this moment I could have all the Noodle Box in the world and enough red wine to fill a lake. Thank goodness for exercise, alcohol and asian inspired foods. Sometimes I find myself asking the most idiotic questions just at the point where everything seems to be going all right. And then it goes to shit. I'm the kind of person who falls for the ones you shouldn't, or the ones you should who don't return the gesture in full. I take my actions for granted and I take the moments I find myself in too seriously. But then again you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

They had stop signs to nowhere. Sectioned off by concrete pillars, grotesque and cold in the lushness that surrounded us. Each breath left a mist hanging in the ocean air, dancing in and out of the leaves we pushed against the sky. Holding back branches covered in the rain from last night’s storm. He slipped his fingers in between mine, pulling me further into the dense brush. A large branch shook loose over us, cold water fell down the back of my coat sending shivers through me. I couldn’t supress the shudder as more rainfall seeped under my collar, his shoulders moved rhythmically with laughter as he watched my frantic hands attempt to dissuade the water from traveling any further. I wrenched my hand from his and thrust it deep into my red pea coat pocket, curling my fingers around and into a tight fist. He chuckled again and stepped lightly off onto a smaller path that would, hopefully, lead us to the ocean.