They will hurt with you, and will grab your hand tightly, to let you know that they aren’t going anywhere. And they never, ever will.
I want to give into you again because as wrong as it is, it also feels so right, so I do. Even though I know you’re a bad decision before I make it.
Some of these college kids need help.
He loved me on the weekdays,
when he was clear-headed enough to comprehend
the effort of cultivating a semi-lasting relationship with someone else
because if he had the choice, he wouldn’t do it sober.
Said “eh whatever” and not worn a condom during sex even though you should have.
Wasted, smashed, tipsy, three-sheets-to-the-wind, gone. Whatever you want to call it there’s something to be said for the magical little moment when your BAC goes from zero to .08.
I think that I will get myself through this. I mean, I always do, don’t I? I’ll find it within myself to stop using alcohol as an outlet for my agony.
You’re probably going to watch an in flight movie without headphones because you won’t spring for the $2 pair they offer, and you’re going to ask your seat-neighbor what’s happening every five minutes because she was smart enough to not lose the free pair Apple provided her with. Basically you’re a monster.
Because no one in your family really expects you the be the sober one, anyway.
The invisible breakup.