What would I be about? How much better it is now? How many other people can do what the other did but better. How honesty could've went a long way? How bad I started and lasted, how much pressure and stress we lathered ourselves in? There has been a line drawn in the sand, as easy to move as smothering it in. It isn't that easy though when the other person is there. Standing right there. Staring back at you, each with the same questions. "Should I cross it?" "When will they cross it?" "Should we ever cross it?" Just like in Madagascar, I'll be at my bar with a seat for you. You can be as stubborn and prideful as a lion but who knows you may come through, but no matter what. You can stay but not rent a room. So till then "Alex", though you're more like a Mufasa.
