My creation

I searched his music for cues, for some kind of indication. That I should stay where I am, on this safe side of the line. I scanned my memories for hints as to what might come next. As to what will cause this line in the sand to shift and shudder and widen. Like the yawn of a canyon discovering itself. Like a glass vase sitting too close to the edge, the smash and shatter only a matter of time.

But I could find nothing. No reason that I shouldn’t step over now, before the truth decides to break the surface. Before I discover just how far into someone else’s garden I’ve wandered. Pretty flowers eager to be picked. Petals to be scattered to the wind. My life torn open like an envelope. And the contents not at all what I expected.

It’s not like I haven’t been keeping track of my sand castles. Measuring every new ripple as it appears. As an anxious tide keeps pushing me closer. To that line. It’s not like the music is ever going to change my mind.

Yet there's a world under my feet and this world I’ve yet to discover. There are traces of both heaven and a hell simmering in my decision. A bet, a hope, a trust, that love won't betray me this time.

In conversations with my future self, I argue that I always wait too long. That I hem and haw like a shy child until I’m devoured by my own innocence. That all the songs and signs in the world might not mean a thing. That I should just grow up already. Admit that I created this situation. That I carefully selected just the right individual to make it hurt all the better.