Mon innocence me ferait pleurer.

He didn't mind, to be there. You have to sense that disdain too, regardless of how it's covered over with sweetness. She didn't know I was sitting across the table from her and I looked across the yard at him standing sentinel at the grill and I just felt so much sadness, for what he would feel if he knew, for what she was going to feel in the second it would take her to look up and those words can't be taken back, once uttered. I wanted to cry for all three of us, just sucked back the tears and up for one more shot and

This broken road.

Maybe I am severely mistaken and just can't find the right way. Someone once told me that you fall in love the first time for love, and the second time for money. Any variation and you are just a damn fool. But I have always been different. I have always found shame in that. As though there is a bar I just haven't found the way to measure up to, and that my life's journey is the trek toward that strength, the end goal being the other side of some status quo that until that moment will always be foreign, exotic. And he looks at me, from the grill across the yard, and all I want is that smile, the green eyes with the creases at the corner, and how he laughs at me when I emerge from the pig skin discarding sweat shop. And how she sat across from me and said that, how I can never talk about that. This parallel that I don't want to draw,

[how can you not]

new orleans and the announcement that I made and how I could feel how sick it made her and I can't remember what I felt then. Afraid. There has to be some point at which I realize that I know what is best for me. And faith in the decisions, once made. I wish I had been born the son of a female shark.