The Consequence of Rejection

The Consequence of Rejection

You know the universe is trying to tell you something when you get struck by lightning, but only after getting hit on by the elderly, almost getting ran over by a semi, and running into the one who got away.

Why do they say it like that anyway?

Like I accidentally lost her when she was the one that got in the car with my best friend and left me.

The day after I proposed.

We were eighteen.

I wanted forever.

She didn't.

It's been ten years.

I tried to move on, tried to get married, had that same wedding crashed by my now best friend who says the only way for me to stop pissing off the universe, is to gain closure with the one woman I can't forget.

So I do it.

I embark on a journey down memory lane that not only lands me in prison but on the receiving end of a fist fight in front of the entire town, this naturally happens after drunken pool sex, climbing the same girls window, and getting threatened at gunpoint by her father.

To say the universe is trying to tell me something anything, is a giant understatement.

I just hope I survive the message.

And then, I hope I survive her—again.