21
Nathaniel
When my father said that I have a train brain, it had absolutely nothing to do with how much I actually love trains.
My train brain doesn’t reverse. Ever. Once it’s moving forward, it just keeps going. There are no regrets. No going back and definitely no retracting what I fucking said or did.
So now, I have a train life, one that’s only focused on getting shit done and moving on to the next thing, then the one after that, and so on. That’s how my train brain works.
Forward.
Outward.
Nothing is kept inward. Otherwise, it’ll rot and cause my downfall.
Now is no different. The present and the past are only a step for the future. A stop, a station. They’re not what I should be focused on and I certainly shouldn’t be thinking about her fucking words. The words that she shouldn’t have said in that sultry voice that I want to hear say fucked-up things.
I don’t want safe and boring.
That’s what started it all. That’s what brought us to this moment where she’s staring at me as if I’m

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