The first time I had my heart broken by a girl I knew it was coming. I went into the bathroom at the restaurant we were at and wrote “It’s all ending” in black marker on the wall. It was melodramatic and bizarrely therapeutic, as I imagine the writing on this wall was.
I drove to a park in the middle of the night and sat in my car until dawn. I haven’t been back to that place since. That feeling will always be there. Maybe that’s what this is all about.
