All the Woulda-Coulda-Shouldas
Layin’ in the sun,
Talkin’ ‘bout the things
They woulda-coulda-shoulda done . . .
But those Woulda-Coulda-Shouldas
All ran away and hid
From one little did.

Never had he thought that he’d gather up enough courage to see this day. Never. He really hadn’t planned it that day; it just happened. So many times in the past had he thought about coming back here, though he’d never actually came. He’d kept telling himself that he would go. The woulds turned into coulds and then the coulds turned into shoulds. Eventually, he stopped thinking about it all together.
Gabe was on the street that he’d spent most of his childhood on.

Seeing it made him want to cry, simply because of all of the emotional hardships that he’d endured here. So many memories of this place were scratched into his mind like a message, both good and bad. He’d lived here until he was 18 and moved out. Exactly how many landmark points in his life had happened here? He couldn’t quite remember.

Slowly and carefully, as if trying not to wake a sleeping person, he strode down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets. He chewed on the lip ring that was pierced through the right side of his lower lip; he only did this because it was a habit. He wasn’t nervous like most people would associate lip biting with. Maybe he was a tad bit nervous. Of course, you’d be nervous too if you stumbled upon the street you lived on in which you hadn’t stepped foot on for 11 years.

The surroundings became even more horribly familiar. This triggered a sickening gurgle in his stomach and a feeling of dread and panic. This is where it happened. Gabe remembered because after it, the other had ran through the trees on the opposite side of the street. He would never forget that day, that very last day that he’d seen Darian. He’d never forget exactly how he felt when Ian kissed him; how confused, scared, content, and… in love he was at that time. Gabe remembered just how discussed he was at how he could possibly love love his best friend.

With a long, empty sigh, he stood in the very exact spot where he thought it had happened, allowing the memory to take him over. He doubted there was any way he could get more depressed than he was, so he figured that the memories wouldn’t do much to hurt him.

Ohhh but he was wrong.

After starting up walking again and 6 minutes… he saw it. It was the place where he’d lived his young life. Yes, you guessed it: His house. He didn’t go inside; he was afraid. What he was afraid of, even he was not sure. So much hatred seemed to radiate from it. It was a house, though it didn’t seem homely. But there he stood, still as stone, unmoving. Waiting for time to sweep him away, whether it be into the future or past.