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