With the most angry expression on her face she moves next to me. You are such a hypocrite, you know that? And yet, you are weak. You never actually dared to take me while I was there. And you expect me to listen to someone that doesn’t practice what they preach? Her face gets close to mine. Her hand squeezing my leg. You can’t handle me, not now, nor ever. She turns back towards the table and drinks out of her beer. You never gave me a chance, in the first place. You simply decided that I couldn’t handle you. Instead of asking, you left me waiting. She turns back towards me. Is that how you wait for someone? Jumping from one realtionship in another? Not talking to that person, but simply sitting idly waiting for her to fall in your lap? Be honest, you used me. You came to me only when things were rough for you. Never when things were good. Baffled I turn back around, there was nothing I could have said anymore.

A dense air filled the space between us. My face wants to turn towards her, to apologize, to soothe her, and my hands to embrace her. But all I can think about is how I have failed her, and let her down. I thought I knew what I wanted, I thought I knew who I wanted to be with, but I guess, I was wrong. What am I doing? Escapes my mouth. She turns to me with a smile and shrugs. Why do you expect anyone to know what you are doing and feeling? Aren’t you a writer? Shouldn’t you figure these things on your own? I start laughing. I don’t know who you think we are. But, I can tell you that most of us know just as much as you do about the why, the who, the how, and all that about thinking, feeling or philosophizing. Whether we write non-fiction or fiction, doesn’t really matter, as we all write things that we wish we’d understand or have. I don’t know anything anymore. As these words leave my mouth, she turns towards me with a pitiful look.

But, she can’t hold that expression for too long before bursting into laughter. Do you realize how pathetic you sound? Without a single beat to miss I ask her why. Because you act so noble, in a pursuit of getting wiser and yet you’re just another cowardly nobody like the rest of us. And yet you seek to give me or anyone any sort of judgment or council. I overestimated you. You’re just another egomaniac. Why can’t you admit that you’re like the rest of us? Flawed, pitiful, broken, in need of attention and love. I turn towards her with an angry expression. I never said I wasn’t, I never believed that. I do not know where you got that from, but it wasn’t from me. She turns to me and with one of the harshest tones she screams. You are deflecting! As we look into each other’s eyes, I respond. So are you! You’ve done nothing but throw things back into my face instead of talking and taking this conversation forward, and why? Because you are afraid that I’m right. You just don’t want to admit it. Silence sets between us as our eyes are burning with passion and our bodies with rage. And then…

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