Wednesday, January 18, 2006


What did Rose see in me? She could have had the pick of any lipless wonder in her firm's office. Why did she choose me?

Because I'm a nice guy. That doesn't sound like much - it sounds like the kind of thing women say they want, just before they go off with the spunky hunk in his Maserati. But Rose wanted a nice guy. And she picked me.

It's true. I was a nice guy. I always fell in love with the women I slept with, even when love was neither requested nor appropriate. I could never fuck around without feeling. A lot of the things that young men do without thinking were beyond me. Because I had listened to too many Sinatra records. Because I always wanted a trip to the moon on gossamer wings rather than a quick shag. Because I was looking for the one.

She saw something in me. Something that was worthy of love.

But niceness is finite. It's like money and youth. It ebbs away when you are not looking. It leaks out of you. Look at me now. I'm nowhere near as nice as I used to be.

I don't want to give up on life and love and all the rest of it, but I can't help myself. It's because life and love and all the rest of it have given me a good hiding. Life has made me feel like death warmed up.

I've lost my faith and I don't know how I can ever get it back. Because I still miss someone. And because I will always miss her.

Is that okay, Rose? Is it okay to miss you?

maybe, just maybe @ 1/18/2006 08:51:00 PM