Squished Like Grape

I'm watching the Hustler. Classic. Eddie is all about getting in action. He's sitting with Sarah and he's not interested in small talk, he's just thinking about how to get back in the game. He doesn't know how to love her. His feelings are owned by The Game.

Sometimes I sit at home and I'm surrounded by love, my wife and kids, in the house we designed and built together, and I am thinking about playing pool in a place where everyone is against me. What is wrong with me? I do the right things. I spend time with my family and I put them first because I know how I really am lucky to have a great life. I play most of my pool at home alone. Where it's safe. If I'm needed, I can just go upstairs and be there. But sometimes that darkness calls and can't be denied. I need to go and get my fix. This is an addiction, plain and simple. It's not exactly good, but I manage it. I dont go out too much, because I don't want to upset my wife. I'm a functioning addict. After the kids go to bed, I am in my man cave, practicing. I have a nice basement pool room, it's clean and spacious. But at the same time it's dark and dirty, because of where it takes me. I get locked in and can't escape. It's just a gateway drug that guides me to the pool room where I'll be inevitably. I'm practicing often now, trying to get a better fix than last time. I got a decent one this weekend, but I left craving what could've been, how I could have gone farther. A sort of friend took notice, saying he's never seen me like this. If I give a whole lot more, maybe I'll get a little more in return, maybe it'll happen. Maybe I'll get more someday. I want to win it all. I know how to do it, too. Can I go far enough down the cave, in order to reach my destination? Will I be able to find my way back? Will I return wearing dingy rags and coughing? What then? Will I ever be satisfied?