Truth Time

June 15, 2011

Falling down the rabbit hole is a rush. Walls zoomed past as I saw him; I couldn't think or speak... and I most certainly could not look him in the eye.

From that moment when we'd met, it was something I'd never felt; as if I'd known him my entire life. He could see through the bull shit, into my very core. Undeniable was the electricity and energy that flowed between us.

He put me in a taxi at the end of the night; I knew it would not be the last time I saw him. 

Next time, I wouldn't be going home alone. And I didn't.

The problem with the rabbit hole? It's easy to get in and nearly impossible to make it back out. 

Let’s call him The Poet.