Nyctophilian

I froze. There was Jordan, on one knee, looking up at me expectantly; holding aloft a small black box with an obscenely sparkling rock that was probably pried from its mine with a child’s bloodied hands. I mentally shook myself. Here he was, Jordan, my boyfriend of two years, my friend for much longer, my…fiancé? He has just uttered those four little words that supposedly every girl waits her whole life to hear and I’m sitting here thinking about blood diamonds and genocides. Focus. The waitress touches down at a nearby table and refills a clinking tumbler with water. The pseudo candlelit ambience catches the crown of h

When she was born, I stared awestruck, and smiled deeply when her little hand gripped onto my index finger. My little princess was finally in my hands, as my queen lay exhausted on the  bed. Time flew by as she stumbled over her first steps and first words, giggling at these new experiences. Her innocent laugh wafting through the house. It wasn't long after that she was conversing with us in that childish way, and insisting that she wear her blue princess outfit wherever she went. And in my eyes, she was just that, and I treated her as such. Years passed and she drifted away from me, constantly telling me that I didn't understand, and going