Keep it clean, Keep it classy

Your just going to fight with your whole pussy out?

My body used to be so pure– sober for twenty-three years. Never drank alcohol for the “fun” of it until you came along. I didn’t do it because of you, but rather for you. I didn’t want you to drink alone, so I drank with you. Maybe we both did it because we knew how the night would end– a magical night you hoped we’d forget by morning, but you never forgot it did you? Because neither did I. You never blamed the alcohol for what happened in between the sheets. You showed no signs of regret or shame, just signs that you wanted more of it– more of me. Because you were, and hopefully still are, in love with me. Maybe not in the way I want you to, but it’s still there? Isn’t it? That little flame I left in your heart? It’s still burning, isn’t it. We don’t really forget true love because it never completely fades away. Or how else would you explain why I still feel this way about you four years later, despite how much you’ve hurt me? Despite how far you’ve moved on? Despite how happy you are without me? I can’t make sense of it and I don’t think I want to. I feel like time has flown by as quickly as you stopped being close by– suddenly, without warning. I’m still drinking, yeah, but this time, not for you, but rather because of you. It’s the only way I can numb the pain and get you out of my brain– distract myself from the inevitable truth that we will never be a “someday.”

i am going to write this fucking book. i don’t care that it’s all about you. i don’t care that you’re my only inspiration. i don’t care that you won’t even read it. it may be my dedication to you, but it’s my way of letting you go, of all the pain you caused. but i have you to thank because if it weren’t for you and how you left, i wouldn’t be writing poetry today.