I’d tell her I’m sorry for wasting her life with the sad excuse of mine. She lived her life how I should have lived mine with love, forgiveness, a...d compassion. I’d tell her I’m sorry that I was so weak that I needed the empty and bitter fool’s strength found in alcohol. She found her strength from within and from God. She didn’t need any other stimulants than that. I’d tell her I’m sorry that I was an unhappy and a mean drunk. Unlike me, she didn’t need to drink to be happy or to find peace. We make some small talk about the project we are working on together. I can’t help but leer down at her legs, which she seems to be completely oblivious to the entire chat. Then I mention in passing, “Oh, that’s a cute skirt.” Jesus, I sound like a girl. But I don’t know what else to say. “Oh thanks.” Julie replies as she twirls around, lifting the skirt up to reveal all of her thigh and just a hit of her ass. She didn’t mean anything sexual by it. Julie is simply playful in a refreshingly. More

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