johnnybnice
I craned my neck above the crowd. She was nowhere to be seen.
Maybe I should have called her name.
It doesn't matter anymore, she was too short to find anyway.
Honesty is the best policy. I'm sure a lot of people know this, and yet we all seem to forget that it is.
Who can blame them, though? It seems as though we were built to take the easy way out. It'd be hard to find a person in their right mind who would be willing to tell the truth, no matter the consequences.
I failed. Now, failure is something we all identify with, but the funny thing is that we usually pin it on ourselves. Why is that so? Why do we need to torture ourselves with the idea of regret? Of failure?