Same place, different times. Questions i've never asked before. Learning about what's happened and why i'm here today eating this bread with this woman, alone, the others out, engaged, moved on. The travels of parents, experiences and fears. A few questions and you're already falling up the stairs trying to keep up. Honesty can get you places. With the boys out and her cigarette lit she begins. It all begins.
Tell me what i need to know, what i want to know. So many things i fear i won't ever be told. I won't ever get to understand her feelings on certain experiences, what was thought, why things happened, and most importantly, what the fuck did happen...
The right time has never come. Whispers in cafes between the other two and secrets and people i won't ever know. Look across the table to see his same longing for information. Want to be in on the conversation, want to be free to ask questions and be comfortable that the answers are true. The need to grasp on to something, the need to know the unknown, the need to know anything at all. The need to relate the past, and the now. It's just not happening.
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