We are not perfect, but we sure try.

I remember the last time I saw it, all lit up with a breeze and a little boozed up. I used to eat my lunch in front of the Alamo, once in a while I'd take a picture for a tourist but for the most part it was just me and my sandwich defending my post. Dustin and I walked the four or so blocks to our bench and sat down as a group of teenagers posed in front of the plaque and a bachelorette party drunkenly stumbled over the cobblestone threshold to American history and lore. It was my last night in San Antonio and I was saying goodbye to the city that gave me so much and took so much away. Everything changes, especially us. And now that I'm home, and the smells of fresh cut grass and overwhelming humidity surround my every move, it seems easier to look back on it all. I do a lot of that. I think about how much I've changed. I think about the people I was fortunate enough to meet. I think about Dustin and how much I miss him. And I remember the Alamo.