I’m Serious

We recently went to Mississippi, and by ‘we’ I mean my lover and I. More formally known as wife,best friend,partner in Netflix binges,fellow dog walker,and sometimes, partner in dog hair removal from chairs.

Mississippi is the deadest state. There’s nothing there, nothing. Just Family Dollar and a couple of Wendy’s, and not even the good ones. More like the ones that all the left over food got recalled to. It’s so poor even Walmart won’t touch it. 

But they have these great casinos. And that’s why we went. For the casinos, just in case you were thinking it was the Family Dollars.

Casinos are filled with retired people. Really really retired people. People that retired from retirement. They expect these people. I can say this because when you go to the bathroom, they have sharp boxes on the walls, you know, to throw your Insulin needles in. I really,really hope that’s what they are being used for…because otherwise,Heroin.

 I kind of felt like I was in a Stephen King novel because they never close. You wander down the stairs in the middle of the night,there are all these lights and smoke and this machine is still going like Gatsby…only everyone is old and drinking and the drinks are free but they’re refusing to tip the waitress. Suddenly you realize you’re possibly in the Shining.

On our journey back, we started to almost miss Alabama. Because there’s nothing in Mississippi. Absolutely NOTHING. Until we stopped at a lone O’Charley’s and I saw on the menu,on this blessed Sunday, the words …”try our weekend Mimosa for brunch.”

And that’s when I looked at our waitress and asked “excuse me, I can order alcohol on a Sunday?”and she looked at me and went “pff” just like that, “pfff of course,where do you think you are?” and I thought, I don’t know, Alabama, where you have to seek out Sunday beverages like the Holy Grail.
The state with the least amount of anything has the least restrictions on alcohol.I don’t know why,perhaps it’s because everyone is depressed over Wendy’s and their three bean chili. I didn’t ask.

But I was astounded and delighted. So I ordered a Mimosa,because it was made of my favorite things, champagne and champagne.

I did not know 
They bring these out  in a very feminine glass …

I’m drinking it when I notice this older guy down the aisle,you know, a couple of booths away. 

Glaring at me and my feminine glass. 
And I glare right back. 

And ordering another Mimosa I notice…

…he’s eating a salad…and reaching under the table. Before every bite, he reaches between his legs where, interestingly enough, he has brought his very own personal plastic bag of nuts. For his salad.

Now, this would be ok …IF he was simply dumping them ON THE SALAD.

 But no. 

He is reaching and picking. Sprinkling for each bite. 
I almost laughed. Thinking, “you’re glaring over at me with my feminine glass of champagne and OJ while you reach between your legs for nuts to top your salad. Sir, I am not the most interesting thing happening in this restaurant right now. That would be the Ziplock of personal nuts between your legs. Maybe.”


The Mexican ( and other stories)


So I’m pretty sure my Dog is a racist. Either that or he has been watching far too much Fox News or Facebook. Gosh dang it, he’s probably a Republican too. 

If you’re new here. Understand. I live in the south. You know, the ones offended by all the things. 

I’m only writing to help you escape. It’s ok to laugh. Anything else gives you cancer. Or something worse,hemorrhoids. And neither of those are good for your sex life…Always feeling like you have to go to the bathroom. Nauseous from your chemo. It’s just really difficult to stay in the moment. Or so I’m told. 

Hey, if you live long enough. You don’t have to have sex anyway. You’re back to just living for Saturday cartoons. But you’re older now, so you call them Fox News and Republicans. Or just those people on Facebook. 

See what I did there?

Anyway, my dog. 

The fierce protector. 

I was letting him use the bathroom and it was late at night. A little bit of rain going on. He always has to go in the tall tall grass where no one can see that he too has to take a dump. He always pops his head up so he can see that I’m still there though. Because, he’s a fierce protector. 

His bark is scary. I’ve learned this from all the barking moments at 2am. And he’s a fierce protector, because he stays under the blankets while barking. Never having actually left the bed. 

But the racism was new to me. 

It was dark and raining. And he was in the grass doing his thing. 

And I looked over and saw this Hispanic walking up with a hoodie (you see where this is going) and he had his ear buds in listening to his tunes. And I thought, oh Crap. 

Simon’s head pops up looking for me. And he sees this guy walk right passed us…and tears out of the grass, razor back fur… Barking and whaling…

The guy just freezes mid walk.

And our fierce protector runs…not towards this guy. But passed him. And straight for the apartment. Screaming like “Mexican. Hoodie!! Run!!! Dad run!!”

I’m standing  there just staring. The guy shrugs his shoulders and actually shakes his head because my dog is too chicken and afraid of the dark to actually do anything. He starts walking again. And Simon looks over his shoulder, realizes I’m not panicking like him. And skids against the door circles around and runs back,still howling. 

I was so mad. I mean thanks for all the protection,bud. 


I’m going to be 27 this year. I actually remember the first time I used the Google. I was so amazed. I just sat there and tried to think of what to search for. So I typed in cars. And then I was at a friend’s house and he accidentally showed me porn hidden in his minimized screen and I never searched for anything else again.


I actually continued thinking of things throughout the week to search for at the library. Because one, I was that kid and two we didn’t have the Internet. 

Yeah, Cell phones  were flip phones with green screens. And Facebook wasn’t here yet. And when it did hit, man, only college kids could use it . And they changed that…and then they had that clever “what’s on your mind or how are you feeling? ” And everyone had some funny status just hanging like a banner at the top of their page.


This showed how smart we were. And China and Japan how comfortable we were with computers. 

But it’s amazing how much it’s grown.Have you seen people’s status’ this year?? 

I wish I could see some more  witty and emboldened “nothing Facebook stop asking.” 

 I’ve always written and even built this site from my phone. 

It was difficult and I was sometimes encouraged by the champagne. 

Tumblr was an event . Before it was cool, whilst it was cool and had its secret code language like wind talkers to tell people you were on there. And then it faded a bit. 

I was homeschooled,man. 

But with social media like that ?

You met cool kids all over the world. 

And even the tamest coolest and lamest got scared and worried or infuriated about the same things as you. 

And everyone all over the world got super horny  and weird every Friday. Everyone. And then tumblr was like, ” we should probably  add some firewalls or something” But the cool thing was , everyone voiced and debated and it was safe. So you learned and you were like “holy shit this rape thing is a big problem. Gays should be able to just get married. We should talk about this.” 

And then you walked outside and remembered you lived in America and we’re still uncomfortable with the fact that women masturbate and enjoy sex …we use it to sell things  but we will not talk about it. Pass laws,yes, take away birth control, hell to the yeah, I mean everyone thought that if it was rape the body just shut that down. Or …that it was ok because you were there. And if you show up?? You had to be ok with it. Or whatever happens in a marriage bed is ok. 

By everyone I mean, all the men. 

No one really said 

Hey, if she isn’t having fun. It’s not ok. 

Or if she isn’t in the mood, it’s not ok. 

Or if she changes her mind, It’s not ok. 

Or hey,it’s actually not supposed to hurt your first time. If it does, they’re going too fast and need to slow down until you’re really turned on. 

We’ve come a long way 

And I feel incredibly old 

And now 

That I’m older and funnier 

And actually cool 

My wife has reminded me…. Another perspective 

We still need to be talking about things. 

About what we like. About our expectations when we get older. About the fact that when I walk our racist hilarious dog. I’m just walking a dog and people wave. 

When she walks him,she has to wear earbuds and music so she doesn’t hear the dumbasses cat calling and blowing their horns. 

And we’re taught to expect this. 

A lot of rapes are happening inside marriages.

and that’s not ok. These are things that are not ok. And we should just keep our hands off women’s rights already. We will never as men understand their walk. Not fully. We should protect and fight for and beside them if anything. But leave their healthcare alone. And their rights alone. 

Moving on 

My dog is still afraid of milk bones. He also loves butterflies…and smelling flowers. Dirty Dancing and Gilmore Girls. 

But he did throw up on a brand new rug…so there’s that.  

And we’re working on the racist thing.


The one about Shrinks I mean Sinks.

Recently I had a mammoth sized clog in my kitchen sink. And by recently I mean – today – like, two hours ago. Actually, I am fairly certain the clog is still there. 

Because I didn’t manage to get the thing. 

And here is why

Usually I call maintenance to come fix things. Because it is their job and I don’t live in a home. So why would I try to break it further. 

But this was just a clog,right?

I got this. 

I was going to be cleaning. And I really really do mean clean. Not the other kind of clean, which ends with Meth. No matter how many chemicals you read from here on. 

Only I noticed both kitchen sinks were blocked up. And had standing water. So I went and got some liquid Plummer. Because that’s what you’re supposed to do. 

Only it didn’t work. 

So I got more. 

And when that didn’t work.

I remembered seeing someone plunge a sink in an old movie once…

Now, you know how sometimes you see things and think…I bet that’s not so bad. Or  I could handle that. 

Well. It is so bad and you can’t handle it. 

My sink is a double sided Joan of Arc. She has more chemical stains than the Original CSI Lab Room. 

And that was before what’s about to happen happened.

I managed to plunge it until I heard the water go down. And I let myself get really excited. Mistake number Uno. Because when I looked over I saw that all the water from the side I was plunging had migrated to the other side of the sink. Like, I hadn’t seen syphining like this since my dad showed us how to steal gasoline out of his old junk cars… I’m still not sure why we had to learn that actually. But I remember it involved putting your mouth on gasoline and I was not into it. 

My sink on the other hand ….

Luckily, I got another idea. I plunged the opposite now full side. Which totally did nothing. The water just moved from sink to sink. Like I was the missing fourth stooge. 

I’m all out of fucks at this point. I just plunge it out of one side and pour the powder Drano down the empty side. 

Do not pour the powder Drano. It mixes with the liquid and you have a gas storm that burns all of your senses. 

I took the plunge out. 

Water starts going out of the sink. I had finally ….what the ??? …

The water was pouring out from under the sink. The pipe came off the bottom of the sink and flooded both sinkfulls of water and now mixed Drano all into the cabinet and floor. 

Good thing no one ever keeps anything under their sink…

Like, dish washer pods. Or trash bags. 

I just stood there. Water running into my shoes and under the fridge. I looked over to my dog Simon for support. Just in time to see him turn running into the bedroom as if to say, you’re on your own dad.

Many small passing minutes later and a lot of burning skin. 

I had all of the drying done. One broke sink with a remaining clog. 

I have no idea how  but the funny thing is. The whole time I was working on this…I kept thinking man you’ve got to hurry so you can write this down. 

So I hurried and called maintenance and asked them to come by in the morning and apologised for trying my best.

Then I took a nap and a really long shower.  


Sleeping Beauty talked in her sleep


Young love is great,everyday is national lipstick day…

  And you get to wake up the woman of your dreams….

Before I make you sick from cliche’s I’ll change the subject. 

My other half talks in her sleep. She’s a deep sleeper. I would say it is because of night shift. But I knew her when we were teenagers. Young and unafraid. She slept the same back then.

“Back then” doesn’t seem that far. But we had flip phones,toms was just coming out, and kids born in 2000 couldn’t drive yet. So I guess it was maybe just a minute ago. 

She’s always said funny things awake…

“That is mahogany!”

“What’s up nerd”

“Being a reindeer is ok, excluding and bullying other reindeer because he has a shiny red nose is NOT ok.”

“Can you do it with no hands?”

“Cotton candy? Mhhmm where did you meet this stripper?”

“Whatever, I know about you and all your whores”

But asleep…

Or waking up…

She is just too much 

I tell her I have to go to work …

I kiss her 

And she looks at me 

And says 

“No no they’re all dead.”

“She needs to get a home kit, then she can de-lice at home like everybody else.”

And then there was that one time 

I woke her up 

And she struck me 

And said 

“Don’t touch me.”

But she denies that ever happened.

I stand on the fact that I was awake 

And she was asleep ….

But like Atwood said…

in the end

We all become stories.

So just remember 

The next time you’re watching or reading fairy tales…

All was not quiet while the castle slept…

Sleeping Beauty was most likely talking in her sleep. . .

There’s water in the sky



Today a funny noise woke me up and I thought oh crap no it may be Simon eating plastic – again. So I jumped or fell out of bed, only to find him sitting in the middle of the floor, staring at the ceiling. 

As a waterfall came down like rain from the apartment above making a small pond beside him. 

It was getting all in our Christmas decorations. (Hence the plastic noise) so I made the appropriate phone calls…and finally grabbed a chair and got the boxes down, drenched now in strange water (Simon still sitting,still watching) I dumped them in the floor and set the boxes out to catch the fall…only the water was getting worse….

Sometimes I get angry…this was one of those times…it’s like waiting for a comet. Doesn’t happen often but it does happen. I knew I shouldn’t be, mostly because,I used to live upstairs, and I was that guy,the guy you don’t want living above you, I flooded people all the time…dish washing accidents…etc etc. 

but still

Who could not be aware of THIS MUCH WATER?

I was set to knock on some doors. I knew it was very 80’s 90’s whatever. Who does the direct approach anymore? As far as Simon was concerned, we were the only people living in this building. 

And after 5 years ? I myself have only seen three. Maybe someone died. Maybe they were there in the shower….

I left to kick in some doors 

Barefoot, wet, and shirtless. 

And slightly mad. 

 There was a waterfall  coming down the stairs outside. 

I was sure this must have happened before. But I met the maintenance guy in the hall. And the look on his face told me. No. 

You know how sometimes your shower floods or your washing machine and you don’t know about it until you walk in the room? 

This was one of those times for the woman inside…

She opened the door and saw maintenance guys face 

Me shirtless 

And then looking down saw the water running out her door. And I’ll never forget it….put her hands to her face and said “howwwww??”

And maintenance guy stepped in the door and said 

“That’s what I’m here to find out.”


After I cleaned up everything and took a shower in my own clean water. I walked outside to go to work. And it started raining. Because when there is something above you?


A ceiling that’s also a floor or a sky that looks a lot like an ocean….there’s also water. 

New York (2013)

When you think of New York

You don’t think of buildings

Or population

Of the weather …

The smell of asphalt

Wet and burning

Which makes the people

Feel more like

Rodents running


You think of


At least I did
I was telling my sister,Jo 

This at her bar

I great little place

A hole in the wall

I love coming here to relax

play piano at the window

Watching all the people

Moving in and out
She just looked at me

With that expression

And then said

“That’s a whole lot of hyperbole

My bar is getting taxed to death

I can’t pay rent for my apartment

So I’m staying here now …

There’s something to write about.”

Then she stopped and shaking her head poured me a drink.

“Vodka, make sure that’s vodka”

I said pointing (she hates people pointing)

“Don’t give me Rum like last time

I almost died …I could see the world just beginning

As I was falling out …I think that’s actually a quote…maybe?”

I was only giving her a hard time
“It’s vodka” she said dryly

Shooting it down the bar
I always admired her talent
“What’s really bothering you?”

I asked as seriously as I could
She just looked at me

So I went to the piano

And stopped


On the seat

Was a box

Macadamias …
Jo shouted from the bar

“Hey, Annabel came by

she had been baking…again.

She said you seemed upset

So she brought



Was great

The baker and holiday


A great friend

To have in This massive city


it’s where her degree

Brought her

And everybody loves

A getting pulling up their roots

I sat down at the piano

Shaking the rain out of my scarf

Watching the people outside

Shuffling in all their hurry

I began playing my favourite

melody for rain


Prelude in E minor
Counting the colours of scarfs

And shoots of red hair

Poking out from hats

I wondered if anyone

Ever regretted moving here?

You can’t always go backwards

Even something like this

Can sometimes

Leave you isolated

I needed to start writing

I needed to do something

But instead

I stayed

And I played

Until my sleeves

We’re rolled to elbows

My jacket on the familiar floor

And I was on Prelude D flat

“Rain drop”

As the night shuffled in …

Down the alleys

And the corners

And the rain

Long had given over

To snow


Chapter 2

“I don’t know…”
Sara was staring straight ahead with her camera …taking shots of old people in the park

And animals …

Her flaming red hair spraying out

From her hoodie

I looked at her for a second

Shaking my head I asked again

“Are you really ok?”

“No…we were together for 7 years

And then he just left…

I don’t know if I can do this again…”

She was always the strong one

In the group

Her British accent

Tattoos and camera

She seemed untouchable

Until she started dating again

And then reverted back to

This …person…

Who couldn’t make a decision

But in her defence

Her previous relationship

Had been something else

“Jared looked at me like he didn’t know me …and then he just left…”

She took a shot of an old couple asleep on a bench ….
I sighed …

“Well,you can’t stay in bed all the time…you have to get out more …

Turn these pictures in…”

I kicked the curb ….sending pigeons flying around in a panick

You turn in your manuscript??”

She was genuinely concerned

“No…I can’t finish it…”

“Are you still seeing Laura?”

“Yeah,but I don’t know…I think so…she’s a screenwriter …I mean we essentially do the same thing …and I don’t know…it seems to be going well…”

“I think I’m a lesbian…”

I stopped …

“What? I helped you pack when Eric cheated on you…you just got through telling me about Jared having a hard time because…”

She laughed

“I know I know…but I don’t know how to be myself in a relationship…

But with women …I can do that…it’s very freeing…I can breathe …”
“Well,I’m not telling Jared..”

“Neither am I …I’ll just let it run its course..”
“You are insane…a mad woman.”
“Maybe but at least I’m not afraid to turn my manuscripts in or ask a girl to marry me”
I grabbed her camera and shot a bar across the street

“That’s just unnecessary cruelty …I’m not getting married anyway…

You need to talk to Jared

He needs to understand what’s going on he fell in love with

A strong woman who made decisions

And now you’re afraid of upsetting him …you have to talk to him about

What’s going on .”
She stopped, setting the camera down

She started to cry …

In 5 years I had never seen Sara cry

So I just held her

And said nothing
chapter 3
Right here

At thanksgiving

It’s freezing

And all I want is my muffin

That’s it

But a hand flashes in front of

My face

And takes it from me


It’s Rachael

jumping ahead of me

With my muffin

All full of energy

She owns her own

Gym and nutrition place

Or thing

It’s very foreign to me

“If you want it

You have to work for it

Come on!”

She’s laughing and running ahead of me – backwards…

“Dammit…” I breathed

“Shhhhit! Come on it’s negative 20 out here ! if I move I’m going to tear something I much rather prefer

Slowly freezing with my muffin.

It’s more acceptable than breaking

Like porcelain ….”

She pouted,her nose crinkling

With disappointment

“Oh fine Achilles …have your muffin

You are quite the warrior”
“I’m not laughing,I’m not laughing…

I’m ready to get to the bar so we can eat Annabel’s food and wrap things

Can we do that? Let’s do that.

No one dies from death temps

And exposure.”
“Oh christmas it’s overrated

I hate the cold but I still run

I make this body what it is.”
She was messing with me
“Listen you communist,I love Christmas and muffins

And fires

I like the cold

I just happen to be aware

Of when my blood is

Frozen,congealed and killing me. Where’s your american spirit?

This is a time for sleeping

And getting fat

Not running and health.

Indulgence! Dammit.

That’s euphoria!”
“Yeah,sounds like diabetes

and no sex to me..I don’t like it”

She laughed and ran

inside Jo’s bar …

I sighed,

“Jesus I need to find some dudes to start hanging out with…”

Chapter 4
The mop splashes across the blood. Mister Sing, slowly moves it around in circular motions left to right. “Does this happen often”, I ask. “Oh yes”, he pauses for just a moment…picking something off of the floor. “Ah! the finger!” He presents it to me on a foam tray, with a grin. “Maybe Allen used to be a ten but he’s just a nine and three quarters,today.”
He continues mopping while talking he’s a good one…I’ve always enjoyed just hanging out and listening to him tell his stories about working with people. His family started the business in the 30’s so he never runs out of them.the stories I mean.
“Butchers are always cutting off limbs.But one time,I had a customer just fall out in the floor reaching for eggs. Just filleted her leg open on a basket. Blood was everywhere. Asked her if she was on any medicine…she said. ‘Oh no! no! Just blood thinner!’ I had to wrap it myself until the ambulance got here.” The floor is clean. You wouldn’t know there was a finger or blood or a screaming Allen fifteen minutes ago.Kicking a trash can in the back of the store…holding his hand between his legs. “I tried to get Allen out here” – Mister Sing continues – “but he took one look at all that blood and walked outside until she was gone.”
Mister Sing hands me a brown bag over the counter. ” Here’s your ground chuck,and fingerless at that! He says laughing and shaking his head. I put some bbq in there also…trust me…(he spreads his hands for emphasis) you’re going to want in on that…goes on everything…put it on a salad…and it turns into meat. Ho-Hey!.” He laughs.

Chapter 5


It’s said

Always want one thing

We want to be heard

We want to be seen

We want to be understood
we say we feel things


We see things differently

Things coming together

Just to come apart

Like entropy

The only difference

Between us

And everyone else

Is that we not only see it

We feel it ….

And we are jaded

Sometimes before it even

A stair case

A closed door

Snow coming through the window

Paint chipping on the walls

You see it all

But you’re outside

Standing with

Sara telling you to go

Take a chance on


Even after your fight

Your drop down drag out

God Laura …

Her blonde hair

Pulled back

Her hoodies

And loose clothes

Her violent schedule

Working with

Local theaters

And dance studios

And writing her


You could see the

Scars along the inside

Of her arms …

The first time we slept


She was nervous

It was like a map for me …

Pieces of doors and windows

That only she could open

If she wanted to

Tell the stories

Behind them

Standing at the balcony with our drinks 

Laura pointed to the 

apartment across the street 

“I’ve always loved her window..she keeps lights in it all year ’round…not just on holidays.it’s nice you know?.”

“Every night is like New Years then?” “Exactly…the possibility of beginning all over again in the morning.”

She smiled-covering her face with her hand.”it’s ridiculous, I know.” But I didn’t think so at all. And I told her just that.

We stood in her theatre work shops 

And she wrote letters on the backs of photographs 

Sliding them across to me 
But the staircase

And that door

My heart didn’t feel right

There was an echo to its beat

As I walked in

The fan (spinning lazily with a slant)

The heater (burning)

I could hear the shower

On the other side of the door

I opened it…
Doors like boxes

And safes

Hide things

But it’s really just a psychological

Thing because we have the ability

To look inside them

there are always secrets

There will always be secrets

Your father wasn’t the guy

You thought he was

Your wife is a lesbian

Your boss is actually into

Hard core porn

And Heroin ….

Secrets are little rooms

That we have a hard time


But when it opens

It’s open

And all you can do

Is read it

Even though

It sometimes

More often than not

Is like the aftermath of a storm …
the shower (steam and water hissing)

The mirror (fogged over)

The curtain (torn from its hangers)

And Laura …

on the floor (facedown)


Trapped between the toilet and the sink

She’d suffocated from a seizure ….

No one there to help
It’s been said that artist

Always want one thing …

Sometimes all you have is

The need to be seen

I guess that’s what we have

In common

That need …

Artist just say it louder

We feel it

Maybe or

Maybe we keep it in….

like Laura

Who never told me about

Her epilepsy

It’s just a room

Waiting on the

Courage it takes

You to open it

With files and folders

we foolishly think only

We can read

but it’s there
It’s not a door

It’s our lives

It’s a window

And everyone is looking

And no one at all

Chapter 6
Did you know,that in WWII…Hitler wanted his generals to burn down Paris …but they looked at the city…and they just couldn’t….the idea of saving it ‘s historic pieces …was to great.To be able to look at them…years later…and know…’I could have destroyed that…but I chose to save it instead.’
Too bad they couldn’t all feel the same about saving a race of people ….
I’m sorry I’m rambling again 
I was just looking at a photo Sara took…it’s hanging above her couch…Her place is small,but nice.’efficient’ is the term she uses.Doesn’t believe in wasting space. 
She walks out of her room, red hair,pulled back into a messy bun.Hands me a large Yellow envelope….and just stairs at me with her big green eyes. 
“Take it…it’s nothing…I just thought you might want them.”
I tear open the corner 
And there they are
Black and white images 
Of Laura, working on stage…directing actors….Laura …sitting in a window…looking out at the people of New York 
My chest feels heavy….
“When did you take these??”
I ask 
Sara just shrugs and pours some coffee 
“A few months before the accident…how are things with you? We haven’t exactly heard from you and it’s been a while since I see you around.”
She sat down on the floor beside the window ,crossing her legs…lighting a cigarette.
“I’m ok.i took a journalism internship…but i had to go to Louisiana… Just a bunch of old jobs …stories on culture…things like that.”
“Sounds good”
“It was…I really needed to get away,ya know?”
“Yeah….I can’t really take much photographs anymore…I have this thing with my eyes…I just can’t see.”
“What?,why didn’t you say anything? Have you had it checked out?”
“No,no,I don’t have to…it’s genetic …I know how this works.”
She shrugged and got up,crossing the floor.
“Sara,look,I’m sorry…I know I haven’t been around…I left real fast.like,real fast.and I’m sorry. But…I had to….I just want to be a good writer…I want to write something that matters…something good.and I’m really sorry,you should have been able to reach me.”
She turned around and looked at me.
I kind of felt sick then 
Because I realised 
Everyone is older now 
and some of us are dead 
Some of us are going blind 
And for me 
The world just kind of felt numb 
And I just kind felt stuck 
And I felt real selfish
And ashamed 
“You could always tell me anything,Josh.you didn’t have to leave like that….and all of us had plans…I don’t know what I’m going to do…I have seen wonderful things …I regret nothing…I don’t have to see anything else.especially if i have you two.” 
Sara looked out the window 
And I realised just then 
How there’s so many people in New York 
But yet 
We still have only a few 
And we still feel alone sometimes 
And if we are lucky to have these few …who stay close …we should definitely keep them.

And I knew we would make it. I knew we would be ok. What else is there?