It’s way too soon.
Way too soon to tell anything. At least, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell myself.
It’s after all only been a few weeks since it all started.
But it feels like it’s been much longer. Certain things that I wasn’t even aware that he’d noticed, he did. And more.
And the storms. Oh, the storms. Every time they happen, I’m holding my breath to see if we’d drown. And we would have, if not for him fighting tooth and nail to hold on.
The walls are still up. The barbs are still there. But there’s a sloth climbing up ever so slowly and ever so steadily.
It’s really too soon to tell. And I’m so hesitant to even write this because what if things go south?
Yet, I wrote it all out. Caution to the wind. Yolo, for once.
Will I regret this? Who knows.
If I do, maybe this will be a good piece for me to reminisce about.
But what if I don’t?