the thin red line.

lines are everywhere - in airports, train stations, cash registers, fitting rooms, restaurants, and ticket booths. these lines are cumbersome, yet they are part of protocol. lines are just one of the devises society has come up with to enforce order, so we'll know how to wait for the right time. in lines, we get a sense of predictability - we'll know whose turn it is, how much longer we'd have to wait, and what exactly happens next. it's easy to see why they are important in everyday life.

lines exist in relationships, too. these kinds of lines, however, are a bit more difficult to deal with. in relationships, there are lines to draw, lines to erase, lines to emphasize and lines to never ever cross. these lines contain feelings and define relationships. these borders keep everything ordered, well-maintained and simple. they keep conversations uncluttered, connections unattached, and friendships uncomplicated. it's not so difficult to understand - respect personal space, and know that there are just some things that are not to be done in order to keep things wrapped up neatly in a tight little package, tied up in a bow. once that bow unravels... well, let's just say that the phrase opening a can of worms just won't do justice to the consequences.

unfortunately these kinds of lines blur and it becomes harder to define exactly where they are. when the borders are pushed back everyday, it's tough to realize that you've been stepping on it with every conversation that you have, that it gets thinner everytime a meal is shared, and that it disappears altogether with a single dance.

crossing lines makes for a very gooey, messy, un-pretty sitation, and it takes more than just kicking yourself to be able to fix it.