Vignettes

I miss you sometimes.

Not often.  Mostly I don’t think about you, almost like I forgot.  But then I close my eyes and out of nowhere, there you are. Sometimes.  Or maybe I’ll think of a joke only you would get, and I’ll turn around to tell you… except you aren’t there.   And every girl I date.  Every woman I love.  Every lady I make love to… they all get compared to you.  And it’s the unkindest comparison.  Because as wrong as things were, they couldn’t have been much better.

I just don’t get it.  It’s not like I love you.  Not anymore.  Why is it the darkest addictions are the ones that we never really let go of?  You’re like fine cocaine, lingering in the back of my mind.

I try not to think about it.  About you.  But then I do.  And I wonder if you still think of me too?  And if you do, do you smile?  Do you reminisce?  Do you hunger?  Or do you roll your eyes and move on?

And I can’t seem to escape that.  That basic need to know.  To understand.   But I know it’s all a lie.  An excuse to pick up that phone after a few glasses of whiskey and dial that number.  The one I erased, but still lingers in the corners of my mind.  I want to make that connection.  To give it one last try, no matter how bad it ended, no matter how much I know it would just tear us apart again.

I know we shouldn’t be together, no matter how bad the addiction burns.  So I’m going to pour another glass out of this bottle. And another.  And another.  Gonna drink this whiskey like Daddy on Friday night.  And eventually, someday, maybe I’ll kill the part of me that holds on to you.

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2 responses to this post.

  1. This was beautiful. I could feel the emotion and the pain of it all. Stay inspired.

    Reply

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