Crocodile Tears

I read an article about a man who spent 16 years raising children that were not his. The father was his best friend. That story left my mouth open for five minutes. Then I remembered I had my own version. My girlfriend. My best friend. My apartment. One night I came home exhausted, fell asleep, and heard something I was never supposed to hear. I did not move. I just listened. Why am I still single? Because I studied four years of theatre arts and still could not see the performance happening in my own apartment. Edgar doesn't lie.