Slammed

in the crowd. "Better than third," he says.
     
     
     
    I met a girl in a U-Haul.
     
    A beautiful girl
     
    And I fell for her.
     
    I fell hard.
     
    Unfortunately, sometimes life gets in the way.
     
    Life definitely got in my way.
     
    It got all up in my damn way,
     
    Life blocked the door with a stack of wooden 2x4's nailed together and attached to a fifteen inch concrete wall behind a row of solid steel bars , bolted to a titanium frame that no matter how hard I shoved against it -
     
    It
     
    wouldn't
     
    budge.
     
    Sometimes life doesn't budge.
     
    It just gets all up in your damn way.
     
    It blocked my plans , my dreams , my desires , my wishes , my wants , my needs.
     
    It blocked out that beautiful girl
     
    That I fell so hard for.
     
     
     
    Life tries to tell you what's best for you
     
    What should be most important to you
     
    What should come in first
     
    Or second
     
    Or third.
     
     
     
    I tried so hard to keep it all organized, alphabetized, stacked in chronological order, everything in its perfect space, its perfect place.
     
    I thought that's what life wanted me to do.
     
    This is what life needed for me to do.
     
    Right?
     
    Keep it all in sequence?
     
     
     
    Sometimes, life gets in your way.
     
    It gets all up in your damn way.
     
    But it doesn't get all up in your damn way because it wants you to just give up and let it take control . Life doesn't get all up in your damn way because it just wants you to hand it all over and be carried along.
     
    Life wants you to fight it.
     
    Learn how to make it your own.
     
    It wants you to grab an axe and hack through the wood.
     
    It wants you to get a sledgehammer and break through the concrete.
     
    It wants you to grab a torch and burn through the metal and steel until you can reach through and grab it.
     
    Life wants you to grab all the organized, the alphabetized , the chronological, the sequenced. It wants you to mix it all together ,
     
    stir it up,
     
    blend it.
     
     
     
    Life doesn't want you to let it tell you that your little brother should be the only thing that comes first.
     
    Life doesn't want you to let it tell you that your career and your education should be the only thing that comes in second.
     
    And life definitely doesn't want me
     
    To just let it tell me
     
    that the girl I met,
     
    The beautiful, strong, amazing, resilient girl
     
    That I fell so hard for
     
    Should only come in third.
     
     
     
    Life knows.
     
    Life is trying to tell me
     
    That the girl I love,
     
    The girl I fell
     
    So hard for?
     
    There's room for her in first.
     
    I'm putting her first.
     
     
     
    Will sets the microphone down and jumps off the stage as he walks up to me. I've gone so long teaching myself how to let go of him, to break the hold he has on me. It hasn't worked. It hasn't worked a damn bit.
     
    He takes my face in his hands and wipes my tears away with his thumbs. "I love you, Lake," he smiles as he presses his forehead against mine. "You deserve to come first."
     
    Everyone and everything else in the entire room fades; the only sound I hear is the crash of the walls I've built up around me as they crumble to the ground.
     
    "I love you, too. I love you so much," I say. He brings his lips to mine and I throw my arms around him and kiss him back. Of course I kiss him back.
     
     
     
     
     
    The End.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

Epilogue:
     
    “ But when I think
    I just might get something
    Out of this
    My parents taught me to learn
    When I miss
    Just do your best
    Just do your best.”
    -The Avett Brothers, When I drink
     
     
     

 
     
    Epilogue
     
     
     
    I walk around the living room, taking long leaps over mounds of toys as I gather wrapping paper and stuff it into the sack. "Did y'all like your presents?" I ask.
     
    "Yes!" Kel and Caulder yell in unison. I gather the last of the wrapping paper and tie the ends of the trash bag together and head outside to throw it away.
     
    As I'm walking to the curb, Will emerges from his house and jogs toward me.
     
    "Let me get that, Babe," he says as he takes the bag out of my hands and carries it to the curb. He walks back to where I'm standing and puts his arms around me, nuzzling his face in my neck.
     
    "Merry Christmas," he says.
     
    "Merry Christmas," I reply.
     
    It's our second Christmas together. The first without my mother. She passed away in September this year, almost a year to