Burying Water

He said the truth is like that water: it doesn't matter how hard you try to bury it; it'll always find some way back to the surface. It's resilient.

I want to be like water too. I want to be resilient, to go where I'm meant to go.

Has that ever happened to you? Have you ever stepped into a place and just known you were meant to be there?" Kind of." She glances over her shoulder at me, waiting. I pick my path toward her, unfolding the wool blanket as I approach. From behind, I wrap the blanket and my arms around her slender body, pulling her into my chest. "One night, I got out of my car to help this girl with a flat tire. I didn't know it right then, though. But I was meant to meet her.

This is me. This is what I want. I could trade it all today, for this. Has that ever happened to you? Have you ever stepped into a place and just known that you were meant to be there?

He said the truth is like that of water: it doesn't matter how hard you try to bury it; it'll always find it's way to the surface. It's resilient.

He was given an angel and he tried to break her wings.

He has feelings for you.” Dakota’s eyes have that dreamy look in them. “Deep, consuming feelings. The kind that dominate your thoughts and control your decisions. And feed your soul.

The mind, it can be a deceitful thing. But it is no match for the heart.

Maybe we’re both lucky to have found each other.

What do you want from me? Right now, from me," he whispers against my mouth. My breath catches. Has he asked me that before? Or have I only wished he has? I swallow against my ball of nerves. "I don't want to be afraid.

I watch people a lot, wondering what makes them who they are.

Ho seguito le istruzioni di mio padre, mi sono tolto i vestiti e ho messo tutto in un sacco, e poi ho pulito con uno straccio la piccola pozza di sangue sul sedile posteriore. Adesso tutto quello che mi rimane è il tempo. Il tempo per immaginarmi come sarebbero potute essere diverse le cose per lei al momento. Non posso essere condannato per essermi fermato ad aiutare una donna con uno pneumatico sgonfio. Quella fu una scelta giusta, innocente. Ma ogni altra scelta che ho fatto dopo quella… Avrei potuto dirle che la marmitta era danneggiata andandomene via subito dopo dalla sala d’attesa dei clienti. Avrei potuto restare con il culo sul divano a guardare il baseball invece di andare al The Cellar quella seconda sera. Avrei potuto dire di no alla Barracuda che Viktor mi agitava davanti agli occhi. Avrei potuto lasciare che l’assistenza stradale si occupasse di lei quando rimase senza benzina. Avrei potuto non darle il mio numero di telefono; avrei potuto evitare di andare in quell’albergo… Così tante scelte, e ho continuato a fare quella sbagliata. Tutto perché ho permesso a una ragazza senza volto di baciarmi sul ciglio di una strada. E poi però, forse non ha mai contato sul serio quello che ho fatto o quello che ho scelto. Forse la verità è che eravamo destinati a trovarci. Una verità semplice che avrebbe continuato a cercare la sua strada per raggiungerci nonostante le difficoltà, indipendentemente da quale via avrei cercato di evitare. Indipendentemente da quanto avrei seppellito nel profondo i sentimenti che lei mi aveva scatenato dentro con un solo dannato bacio. Se aspetti abbastanza a lungo, la verità trova sempre la sua strada nonostante le difficoltà. Proprio come quel ruscello. Proprio come l’acqua."[99 giorni]

See that stream over there?" I stretch an arm to point out the small branch coming off the lake. "It's fed off the mountain thaw. So is this lake. There's kind of a funny story to it. the stream runs all the way down into our neighbors property. Our neighbor, Mr Fitzgerald-he's gone now- didn't like it so close to their barn. For years, he'd try to stop it. My granddad would hep him. they'd dump gravel and dirt. One year, they built a dam. But every single spring, the water would find it's way onto the Fitzgerald property." I chuckle, remembering the two old men standing over the stream, scratching their beards in wonder. "finally they just gave up and let it be. Realized there was no stopping it. The water was going to go where it was meant to go." I feel a smile touch my lips. "My granddad used to tell us that story every spring, when we came out here after the thaw. Of course, it wasn't just a story to him. He turned it into a life lesson about telling the truth. I had a problem with lying when I was little," I admit, sheepishly. "He said the truth is like water: it doesn't matter how hard you try to bury it; it'll always find someway back to the surface. It's resilient.

Jesse." My head springs up with a deep breath of panic. Alex's face appears in my blurry vision. I guess I managed to fall asleep in this old chair after all. Now I feel worse than when I sat down. "Come." She takes my hand and tugs me until I get out of the chair, leading me to the bed. It's still dark out, but the fire casts enough glow. "Wait, let me get the-" "No, this is perfect. Really." She's still whispering. the girl who drives a BMW Z8, and she wears probably two years' worth my salary on her finger, curls up on an unmade bed with an old wool blanket and says it's perfect.

I want to be like water, too. I want to be resilient, to go where I’m meant to go.

He said the truth is like that water: it doesn’t matter how hard you try to bury it; it’ll always find some way back to the surface. It’s resilient.

And the truth pushed to the surface. Like water, buried.