Me.

   As I sat in a Bar, an attractive, yet older Gal sits across the Bar. Our eyes meet, but yet I am too worried about being, 'not the one', again. Tonight She was an attractive Woman to begin with. She gave all the signs of being a Woman looking for love too. And yet I sleep alone. I do not write this shit to look bad either, that is of course My Life. No She was not in Love, but yes I was looked towards. Meaning? If the Kid had the guts to approach Her I doubt if I'd be writing right now. Sex in a small Town? I might see Her again though. Fault! I did the same thing for years after I met Nancy, 'I will see Her again.', were My thoughts and it kills Me. The night life here is still there, the only thing is, Nancy fucked Me up. I only hope that a realist reads this, for I am as real as I can be Here. Proof? That is My problem I am seeing here. Television is involved, there has to be a trail. Again, I have to prove I am the Being these Children find amusing.