Back before I forgot how to love, I wrote about it. All the time. Now I can only remember what it was like, before I became an expert at effing it up. Important decisions-- I always make the wrong choice. Unfortunately, I'm great at creating moments of decision where there need not be any. The roads I take seem to always lead to the wrong place. I need GPS For Life.

Scrawled on a scrap of paper tucked away in long neglected notebook stored on a shelf in my closet, I found this one poorly formed sentence:

I want to be the one holding the door open for every happy moment you walk into.

The note isn't dated, but I believe I wrote it sometime between 2001 and 2005, when I was still optimistic about relationships, or rather, one particular relationship. That one sentence has ruined my night. I wish I had not found it.