I sit in my Dad's truck, which smells like death and 32 lbs of onions left over from the weekend, eating a not-so-healthy bunch of curly fries (yum) listening to a man sing to me who sounds as pained as I'm feeling wondering if I will ever be happy alone. When will I be happy again? Actually happy? Will I be ok just me?
Then I hear honking, a police car whiz by and a van barely pull over for it as it races by in the opposite direction . I then realize that I have next to nothing to worry about. Life will be fine. It goes on.
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