A real wind blows tonight as I make that now-habitual brisk walk over the sidewalk.
Through laughs and long hours. Apathy and intensity. Cookie dough ice cream for dinner, "She's, like, old," conversations that feel right and others that just are. There is something I should be doing and it's not being done or said, and I feel all right with that until the morning.
But there is something I want to tell you, and I haven't.
The wind knows.
The world I am living in right now is not real.