Turns out I have limits.
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Turns out the people you miss were waiting on you too.
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The house of bad decisions strikes again.
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Look for a Waffle House exit. I know their reputation. But hear me out.
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I can't tell anyone but my pet chicken.
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Good or bad, I'm here for it.
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Apparently, I still break up fights. Even in a fish tank.
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The weird behavior that shows up after it's already over.
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There are normal conversations. This was not one of them.
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I still remember the sound of those footsteps on the porch. And the smell.