Flaw Salad

I started writing our story, but it felt too big, and all I wanted was to get to that one day, that one beautiful moment in my car on the roof of parking garage where you worked, when the sun shined in and the love flowed out and the pancake picnic made you smile bigger than I even hoped you would, and how, for that brief afternoon, we thought maybe there was a future here, you and I, and how could we have been so foolish after all we’d been through, and how many times had we cried in that car or yelled in that car or driven around hopelessly in that car, and anyway, that car is dead now, and I don’t even know if you still don’t believe in dinosaurs, but maybe I was wrong about whether or not that mattered after all.