I sat on the roof of my house and looked out at the creek behind the houses behind our house. It gleamed as the sun set itself down behind it. Everything, for once, seemed so tranquil and peaceful and... nice. Goddamn nice. So nice, holy shit. I felt...
feel happy. But I did feel the weight let up. I felt cool, too. Like
this was the closing credits of some stupid teen movie. Maybe, maybe
once the bombastic ending song would flare on, and it would cut to a
picture of me as a successful adult with a family or something corny
like that. I would be smiling at the camera, and my children would be
all around me, and I'd have an arm around my future wife's waist, and
everyone would be so goddamn happy.
But that isn't
true, I told myself. That isn't the true ending. No, this isn't a John
Hughes movie. This isn't Harry Potter, where after untold adversity,
happiness is born. Life isn't that simple. Life isn't that clean cut.
Life isn't like that. Life is goddamn hard.
everything with Peter isn't over yet. I couldn't forget that. He could
be dead. And I knew that I could be next. Anything could happen.
I fell asleep and took a short nap on the roof as the summer heat descended upon me.