Too many choices make me nauseated.
At the end of the day I’m going to choose my children first.
I owe them.
I made them. Kept them. My duty to keep them.
A lot of people depend on me, including my aging family.
I owe them also.
They keep me soft, taught me love, and make it worthwhile.
My career is attached to my deep seeded altruism.
It’s the art I’m living.
And I took an oath.
A real one with 150 of my classmates.
I’m not going to waiver, ever.
Not even if it’s killing me.
Ask my angry, pain laden knee.
I’m stern about these things if necessary.
It’s never about anything but those things first.
I have no needs that are as important as this.
I have very few needs other than the smiles my precious littles carry because I kiss them before bed every night.
If you’re interested, be patient or choose the blonde instead of this brunette.
I’m incapable of giving those two things up.
I tried once,
Almost took my soul as penance.
If you have none,
I’m definitely made of nothing to see here, move along kindly.
And I whole heartedly am sorry and not at the same time.
Maybe I’m just like my father,
Just like my mother.