We had an outlook beside a power substation. Technically it was a maintenance pulloff, but it was so rarely used they really didn’t care unless you caused problems.

Spent so many nights figuring shit out, leaned up against the hood of her old Cavalier. We would watch shift change at the concrete factory, trying to decide where our lives were headed. Swapped cigarettes over heartbreaks, worked through trauma watching the sunrise.

There’s so much of that point in my life I wish I could cut away, but getting done with a show for the night and heading up that old mountain road is one of the few memories I would choose to keep. Those times where it felt like we could actually do something, that we were going somewhere.