"Why would you do this to me?" I growled through my teeth, fighting back the tears that stung at the back of my eyelids.
I finally mustered up the courage to ask him, but now I'm not sure I want to know the answer. All I can remember is sitting up at night in order to chug vodka. I could never remember why though, whether it was to forget the darkness that consumed me or your memory. The vodka drowned out the emotions, and the tequila created a false happiness. It gave me a sense of false independence, but when I came down, I realized I still love you...that you never actually left my mind. You were only hidden by the alcohol I consumed.
Your memory made me pick up shitty coping mechanisms. They told me the only way to move on was to love someone else, so I chose to start loving myself. BOOM! No more you.
YOU ARE READING
Excerpts From A Book I'll Never Write
PoetryI always come up with stories, but I cannot elaborate on them. I can't even finish a two page short story, so I write one page little bitty made up scenarios. I just want to be able to share them with people who appreciate the writing.
