Live in the moment.
Twenty one years old and wishing you were home in your own bed with a beat up graying stuffed bunny named Puppy to cry into. Twenty one years old and choking in the throat with Adult Secrets sitting on instant messenger at 3 AM trying to start words, only to be asked, "Do you have brain crickets?" Maybe that's your problem, brain crickets migrating downwards to eat their way out, leaving behind them a trail of blood.
Live in the moment?
Adult responsibility isn't really all it's cracked up to be, and eventually the twitching throughout your body when someone comes too close might stop, maybe maybe maybe. You can be the perfect girl turned woman, doing everything before your peers--embracing that ever crucial maturity to bring you closer to what should be your goal. But eventually isn't now, and sometimes it can seem too far off, too far off to be attainable.
Live for another moment.
A night spent without the encrusting of tears on your cheek in a silent room that's not even your own. A night spent without contemplating your own absence of virtue while wondering to yourself if maybe you're not the person you were meant to be. A night not spent holding the hand of a man who sees you as that person and worrying about what would happen if he woke up and saw you now, in illuminating darkness.
Live for any moment.
Just not this one...