All my life, I played a role in which I can't really find the way out. That night, my life came crashing down and I thought maybe, that empty seat on the corner could make up the pain I felt tonight. No, I'm not talking about Love; it's the fact that I have taken so much pain, that I realized it's starting to affect me. I wasn't planning on going to that bar, I wasn't even sure I'd go outside The cold crisp air had taken its toll on the scars I have inflicted upon myself. I walked into the bar, expecting a full seat on the corner. Boy, was I right; my leather jacket kept me warm tonight and I don't have a plan to take them off. Counter it is then.
I starred blankly at the book, expecting to distract myself with the thought of this book. Something to make me forget about the night; but I couldn't! I can't keep up a facade for so long.
Pain. Pain... on my wrist, on my arms; the scratching motion of my jacket. I cannot withstand the pain anymore! Physical? Mental? it's still unclear. I calmed myself down; there is a war between my conscious and my logical state, to consider the fact that I have been having this second thoughts of my decisions.
Can I drown my thoughts with alcohol? I guess I have to try.
"Bourbon whiskey-- please; Leave the bottle on the table, I have a feeling it's going to be a rough night, " I KNOW, I KNOW! IT'S A MISTAKE, but I can't help it. I started taking my shots; slowly, but I know by the end of the night I'll forget everything. With a hint of my inability to walk home and fainting here and there; It'll be worth it, at least.
2nd shot... "Here's to a better night, I guess" 3rd shot. Bitter aftertaste, that's all I can say. Bitter with a hint of sweet for tonight's lost memory. My head tells me stop, but my heart tells me to keep going.
"I'm having second thoughts with this, maybe I'll just stop--"
"A shot of whiskey, please-- just leave it there, thanks" can't help myself to look up, to see a young male; maybe older than me... 24 I guess. He had walked in with his red flannel shirt and black skinny jeans. To my surprise, he sat so close to me; I could've heard his regrets drinking shots after shots. Slight chiseled jaw, brown eyes, a hoodie covering his hair; later shown, that it is blonde, some sort of dirty blond, swept upwards. I can tell he'd look good even in some sort of mess.
"Hello. I--uh... I saw you from that stand over there and I thought you'd like to have some company," You know what's funny about this man? the fact that he had starred at me for the last minute and it took him another 5 minutes to approach me. I don't do talking, it's not my thing; But I'd like to try and it felt like I had a connection.
You've got to have Faith. I believe it's a one connection that night.
