Today, I quit my job. At least I did in my head. In actuality, I simply gave myself a date. An arbitrary date set in the not-so-distant future where I would submit a resignation letter. A date by which I would have fully worked out at least a rough draft of how I was going to survive the next 365 days.
I stood on the side of interstate 75 examining my car that was just hit by a driver who did not stop. My dad has cancer. I hurried back in the car and immediately thanked God that it was not worse than what it was. Unsightly scratches and a busted taillight. My dad has cancer this was nothing in comparison.
We met at work. He was the creamy brown-skinned guy with the perfect smile and hazel eyes and naturally, every girl and woman who worked with us delighted in attention from him. He was charming, handsome, intelligent, witty, and was athletic. He was the guy every girl wanted to be wanted by and despite my cool attitude, I was no exception.