This Life.

NYC has a way of making your life a living rollercoaster. It's way way up, and that's exhilerating, but then the drop? It's so deep, and so fast, and doesn't immediately uptick and that alone will break an average man's spirit.

Jill and I? Haven't stopped swirling around in 3 years. There's never a lull at the top. There's always a brief peek at what we can have or achieve and the glimmer of hope that goes with it, but we always have to keep in mind that the fall, that NYC's gravity, is on it's way, almost immediately. Just as soon as we get good news, we get awful news. And then that snowballs. Until it finally melts and we find ourselves content with the puddle it left, until that puddle freezes and we slip.
Only flat on our backs can we truly see the sky.

Everything happens for a reason. Everything. I just wish I could see why the stars align the way they do over dates that mean other things. Why can't the news fall on average days, where you didn't have prior engagements? Why the special ones? Why make it so difficult? I know questioning the universe is fruitless and silly, but I just can't resist.