We were sitting on the bleachers overlooking the field, where they play some sport that I probably don't understand because I still think baseball and football are better than anything you have to play in a white outfit and some stupid hat but that's not the point. He was chugging on a longneck, while the only thing I could concentrate on was a girl wandering the streets trying to find cigarettes. He was telling me all about this thing they call faith (I call it serenity or a god damn hole you need to fill). And all about this girl. (They love to tell me about beautiful girls.) He quoted the Bible and in the same breath said "NO, you must judge yourself, you're the only one fit to." That's funny, I've been trying to take it easy on myself. But you're always telling me I'm no go at it anyway. He kept telling me I didn't understand, but I'm never sure if it's I who don't understand you, or you that don't understand me, but I guess that doesn't even matter.
I walked home and you were sitting on the front step with a cigarette and tears in your eyes.
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