What if...

I want to be more bold, more out-there. I just seem to mess up, take the easy way, and then I’m left beating myself up about what I should have done or what I should have said. What I should have done and said probably would have gone over really well. But alas, I’m here to wallow in the “what ifs.”

“What ifs,” haunt me like the ghost of an angry x-wife with rabies. I just can’t stop replaying it all in my head. It makes getting back to things after a weekend away just that much harder. I have no idea what to do with myself, so naturally I plan a bonfire party.