L and I had leftover dessert tonight – we had made gourmet pears simmered in sugar water with vanilla, covered with dark chocolate creme fraiche sauce. Not wanting the leftovers to go to waste, we took them outside and attempted to give them to passersby.

“Do you want a chocolate-covered pear?”

-”No, but do you have a cigarette?”

-”No, but do you have a quarter?”

-”No, but do you have any weed?”

Dang – what is it in me that causes me to get a kick out of being a jerk to the people I love the most? It doesn’t bring me any real enjoyment to be mean to them – there’s just…something in me that gets carried away with myself. I hardly notice until after I see the hurt/shock/pulling-away in your eyes.

I’m sorry. I’m trying to get better.