The Warbler

by Sarah Beth Durst

You can only pile up so many regrets before they weigh you down, and I carry enough to rival an Olympic weight lifter.

I am a rock skimming the surface of a pond, wanting to make ripples but afraid I’ll sink.

Everyone has excuses for why they stay or go.

Maybe someday I’ll forgive her. Or maybe I won’t. Forgiveness is for people with other things to hold on to.

I don’t have either the time or the strength to care about the fate of strangers when I’m barely able to keep myself afloat.

Why do people think it’s okay to ask personal questions when all I want is a beverage and some space?

I’ve always lied to myself just as much as I lie to everyone else. It’s easier that way.

It’s okay to be optimistic, but I can’t let myself feel the stab of every disappointment—or I’ll leak from all the holes in my heart.

This is a place where I can be myself and no one will overhear me.

of Allison’s body at the truck’s impact. I’m not superstitious, but it’s hard not to wonder about the role of luck in my life.

He reminds me of a golden retriever I met a few towns ago who’d steal burgers off the grill but look too cute to blame. I’ve forgotten the name of the owner, if I ever knew it, but the dog was Maximus.

It’s easier to take a risk when there’s someone to catch you.

I sometimes tend to see only what I want to and to read too much into people’s quirks.

Cats always seem to peer into your soul.

That’s the problem with conversation—sometimes what you don’t mean to say slips out.

“Regrets aren’t a thing you can avoid,” Mom said. “They’re just a part of life. Every time you say yes, you’re saying no to a dozen other things you could be doing.”

every yes is a no to a dozen other things.

It never paid to engage with someone who was determined to be “helpful.”

Why did strangers feel the urge to share their judgment—all dolled up as advice? Some people just couldn’t help themselves.

who picks breakfast and the library for a first date anyway? Actually, that sounds like an incredible first date.

Not unhappy isn’t precisely the same as happy.