Dipsomaniac

Previously known as Counting Stars...

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“If your love was his cure then why didn’t it work?”

I take a good look at James, at his jet black hair that is covering his sweaty forehead, I take a good look at those kissable lips of his- the lips that only ever spoke a sweet melody- mainly though, I notice that James- he's still unconscious on the bed, and I realize that I can't save him anymore. Because in the end, he doesn't love me as much as he loves his bottle of whisky.

“Just because my love didn't work doesn't mean I'll give up. I'll be with him every step of the way. He needs his bottle and I need him. So I'll join him in his addiction. I'll make his addiction mine so this way we both can be happy."

I love him too much to let him go. So if he can't save himself and get himself out of this mess then I'm more than willing to go down with him.

"If this poison is his first love, then I’ll accept it too. I’ll stagger along with him and then perhaps find him at some point and at that point he’ll come and say “Arielle, I’m tired now” and then I’ll tell him, “Come, James let’s go home.” And he’ll come back.

He'll definitely come back.

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Short Story #256 // 07.05.2014 (before when it was under short-story)
Romance #846 // 07.06.2014