Sometimes I Think If I Had To

Sometimes When You Get Older — And I’m Not Talking About You, I’m Talking Generally, Because Everyone Ages Differently — Things You Think On And Wish On Start To Seem Real. And Then You Believe Them, And Before You Know It They’re Part Of Your History, And If Someone Challenges You On Them And Says They’re Not True — Why, Then You Get Offended Because You Can’t Remember The First Part. All You Know Is That You’ve Been Called A Liar.

Even As Your Body Betrays You, Your Mind Denies It.

I Roll Onto My Side And Stare Out The Venetian Blinds At The Blue Sky Beyond. After A Few Minutes I'm Lulled Into A Sort Of Peace. The Sky, The Sky--same As It Always Was.

My Platitudes Don't Hold Their Interest And I Can Hardly Blame Them For That. My Real Stories Are All Out Of Date. So What If I Can Speak Firsthand About The Spanish Flu, The Advent Of The Automobile, World Wars, Cold Wars, Guerrilla Wars, And Sputnik — That's All Ancient History Now. But What Else Do I Have To Offer? Nothing Happens To Me Anymore. That's The Reality Of Getting Old, And I Guess That's Really The Crux Of The Matter. I'm Not Ready To Be Old Yet.

I Stare At Her For A Long Moment. I Want To Kiss Her. I Want To Kiss Her More Than I've Ever Wanted Anything In My Life.