i was going to post something about seeing one of your exes out at the local tonight. how strange and proud i felt to be there. with you. on some stupid ugly lonely-night-out-pub-bench. filled with joy--that didn't have to be created from anywhere. but i won't. because, there's still loads of Styrofoam-sweaty chips to eat. and at-home-wine to drink. and laughter to fill a thousand years. I'm so glad we went out for a pint, he says. and i think. yeah. yes. and we smile kiss joy. greasy-garlic-fingertip-future.