The Whole Point of You

You get to smoke—

On a balcony high above the glittering lights of the City, drinking a martini and flirting with the cool kids,

On a road-trip with your sister, arm dangling out the window, sweaty and bored, and as happy as you’ll ever be,

On the tailgate of a pick-up truck, parked at the edge of a field in the shade of an oak, where you are taking a break on a hot, dusty day,

At a dive bar where you are drunk and dizzy and your favorite song is playing, and all your friends are there,

At your brother’s wedding,

Your uncle’s funeral,

Your cousin Gina’s kid’s third birthday party, which is at a zoo for some reason,

Any chance I have to give you a cigarette, I’ll do it

Because the whole point of you is to

Have all the fun,

Make all the mistakes, and

Live all the lives that I cannot.