beauty in the breakdown

it always seemed overcast in the morning. becca and i would lay in her bed exchanging dream analysis and black iced coffee desires. then one of us would finally dash from the warmth under the covers to the stereo; making haste over the cold wooden floor, through the ten feet of cold air. it was always the shins early in the morning, except for that one time it was tom waits. after a song or two we'd be ready to start the day; making zig zags through austin, smoking parliaments as we went, discussing everything from andy warhol to first loves, her with a jersey accent and me with my hidden southern twang. not even a year later and i look back on those memories as some of my favorites; my most cherished; and unfortunately, because of the twist and turns circumstance provided, as some of my saddest.

the credits began to roll, i looked over at rachel to see that her eyes were swelling with tears. the theater emptied and we did too. i was drained because i know that feeling of being homesick for somewhere that no longer exists; because honesty is the best you can give and all you should expect; because being yourself is priceless; because this is life in it's beauty and in it's sometimes often sadness and void; because garden state reminded me of those cold winter mornings listening to the shins with becca.