being around you was my favorite thing, then.
you were like a drug or maybe even my own insobriety.
so many highs
but so many lows.
when the happiness came about I was always ecstatic,
always feeling emotions I hadn't before.
and I wasn't afraid of anything
until I remembered I had to wake up the next morning.
because dealing with that mental hangover and sobering up to reality
is a wakeup call marked by a "blocked number"
"thirteen missed calls"
and breakdowns at 3 am
the exact moment your head starts to throb
is also the exact moment you remember why you said
"never again"
right before you jumped back into their arms
I realized happiness isn't real when its only there to serve as a prelude to sadness
thats no way to live.
no way to love.
