i miss you so much. i miss you when i lie awake at three am. that's when i'm most desperate for you. that's when my fingers clasp around the bottle of whiskey that belongs to my dear father. as i drink i realise that your love was too indefinite to be adequately described. you said it was all mine — you spoke with such belief — ready for me to own your love. thinking about it makes me feel miserable, as if remembering tears my soul apart. but it also makes me feel incredibly guilty. your love seemed to be similar to liquid that i could swim in. like the nothing-coloured whiskey in this bottle that i'm holding onto. i could touch it, feel it wrap around me, but yet i couldn't take it — your love — i couldn't exactly keep it... i swam through your love everyday; touching it but i never drowned. i never drowned in your love. but maybe i should have.
— a bunch of stupid words i wrote at 1:14 in the morning.
