mark my words

The last-minute, non-date date.
I love how I look forward to it—not with flutters,
but with a kind of jolly excitement.

—I told mom. She sends her regards.

So we sit down (and I love this place—a little throwback to a past life).
We order to share.
It starts off a little awkward,
but we always find something to say.

How incredibly lucky—
to have this kind of timeless connection.
Of all the connections I’ve known,
this is the one where we could go silent for 40 years,
then pick back up right where we left off.

I’ve come to trust myself completely.
The consequences of my choices unfold with quiet confidence.
There are no bad decisions—just decisions, you know?
And in hindsight, everything feels beautifully timed.
Inevitably completed.

It never could’ve worked out between us—
one of us wanted to stay,
the other needed to run away.

He says I’d been talking about this (life) since way back when.

—I did?
—Yeah. And I’m happy it worked out for you.

Mark my words:
Keeping promises to myself has rarely been easy.

But today, you might’ve just made my entire year—
reminding me how stubborn,
how determined,
how resolved I’ve always been.

The thing is—
I’m on the cusp.
Blindfolded.
About to step right out.

And reassured by every non-wrong decision that led me here,
I know—
it’s going to be a leap,
not a fall.