they were honest and i was honest and we got it all out there

and they asked good, hard questions

and i had answers and examples and a few things they probably didn’t see coming

and i smiled and they smiled

and the food was super good

and we were just three people not fucking around, just getting it done with a shared goal

a pure goal

goodness all around.

fucking a. this city is so big but it’s rare when this happens. why is it rare? is everyone that scarred and worn down? does this happen only once every full moon friday the 13th?

or is this what ive been writing all along: that the man upstairs, you know that he cares, was just letting the ingredients meld together naturally, which is the best way

and then when it was time… ta da.

we talked about so much in such a short period of time.

even in hushed tones

(the best tones)

i ate rare beef.

im alive eating left over rare beef.

if i die i love you and that smile on my face is bittersweet