Sitting On a Barstool

Tell me a story.

One, you can’t tell your momma or your priest.
It might even be one you do not want to tell the mirror.
Right now, I am where I am supposed to be, and so are you.
The world is turning round and round, and people are living and dying.
But, I am sitting here, looking into your eyes, listening to you.
No lies, no exaggerations, just your life’s travels. I will not judge you.

But I want to know.

Tell me how you got from that past point of dreaming the great life to sitting in front of me on a barstool, swizzling another Grasshopper.

You know, those early dreams of wearing dancing shoes and fancy dresses, and making all that saw you go, “Awwww.”

Hell, I will even get you started.

I came from, “no good.” A place just outside of “no future.”

I got married five times; it never stuck. I could never decide if I attracted horrible people or I was awful in my choices.

High school teachers thought I was destined to be a loser.
I bent the rules like time had bent the house owned.

A marble turned loose on that floor might go to one point or another, but never where it was supposed to.
There was no bubble or proper lay to the house. A glass of water set near the bed would likely freeze during the winter.

My best memories were crawling beneath the floor joists to haul out puppies that mother bitches had birthed beneath. Those puppies squealing and running were the best things for me during Christmas. The mothers feeding them kept my mind off how hungry I was, sometimes.

So, Kathy? If that is your real name.
Tell me your story. I want to listen, and you need to talk.

The sadness in your eyes is what drew me to you.
You have a load, and you feel like no one is there for you to help with that load.
No one has ever been there for you. I know. You have felt defeat so many times. You really believe that is your life.

Well, defeat is not your life. It has been your choice.

Tell me your story. A straightforward promise is I cannot fix all the wrong decisions that led you here to me.

But I am here.
I am listening.
You have me, and I have you, and that is all we have for now.

Unload on me, and tomorrow, you will feel better. You might even make better choices for your future, your life.

Come on, what do you have to lose on that barstool?

I am listening.