cgs/today i am fragmented

So when I walked in and saw her sitting on the couch and eating a pickle for breakfast, I put my tongue between my forefinger and thumb.  She was on the verge of so many things.  I felt like I was on the verge, but that may or may not be true.  In her case, every structure I had tried to throw off in the course of a life was there to announce that she was on the verge, and there was very little I could do.  I thought about sugar and spice, and the way she always chose pickles, or hot peppers, or black nail polish, over anything sweet, and understood that the only thing left for me to understand was that some things are worth forgetting about, and others are very important.  At this moment, it seemed like it was necessary to be in the room with the pickle smell and not react in any direction, because in this case, it was about sugar and spice or something much more original and interesting, and I didn't want her to think I was encouraging or disapointed, but I knew, I understood for certain, that the last thing the world needed at this moment, was another disappointed father.  


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