What They Left Behind
I put on my coat.
And I walked back toward the restaurant that had taken my last four hundred dollars the night before, with absolutely no idea that I was walking toward the moment my entire life split cleanly into a before and an after.
It is a strange thing about the biggest moments of our lives, that they so rarely announce themselves.
We imagine that the turning points will feel like turning points, that we will sense the significance gathering in the air, that fate will give us some warning to brace ourselves.
It almost never happens that way.