I feel relieved.
Which makes me feel like a jerk.
Because I love her.
God help me, I love her.
But she’s exhausting.
And this weekend… it did something to me.
It showed me something I didn’t want to see.
The hold she has.
How easy it is for her to flip a switch and I’m not me anymore.
I don’t like that.
I don’t like that I can’t outplay her.
Because I’m not built like that.
I don’t flirt to make someone jealous.
I don’t bait.
I don’t manipulate.
I show up.
That’s it.
And somehow that makes me the one always chasing.
So yeah.
I don’t feel guilty when I lie.
Because I’m not going home to build a slide deck.
Not yet.
The marina bar opens at four.
Small stage in the corner. Two beat-up speakers. Smells like old beer and salt air.
Perfect.
My guitar case feels heavier and lighter at the same time.
Like I’m sneaking into church.
Mike nods when I walk in. “You’re late, rockstar.”
“Traffic,” I lie.
He hands me a water. “You’re up.”
