sour n' sweet

"hey, it's me. i really shouldn't be calling but guess what i still have? i still have your damn navy blue, ptmc hoodie. yknow, the one with the broken zipper and loose threads. for some reason, i still wear it to sleep sometimes. it still smells like you. fuck, i miss you, mike. and i hate that i do because you were the one who left. you were the one who decided to take off on that death trap you call a motorcycle and leave me here... i hate this was a stupid idea... forget this call ever happened." she sobbed into the phone before hanging up.

her thumb hovered over her phone, contemplating whether to send it or not. however, her drunken state decided for her and her thumb hit 'send'. her eyes widened as she sobered up for a split second before she came to terms that there was nothing else she could do but wipe her tears and tip up her glass of wine.

her mind wandered to where he could be, if he was with somebody, if he was missing her, or if he was taking care of himself... she had half the mind to drive around the next day and try to trace his path. but she knew it was impossible and stupid.

why was she losing her mind? he left her. she should be out with her friends getting drunk, laying with whichever guy was worth the night. not moping in her apartment, drinking out of a sad bottle of wine that she otherwise would never pick up. if michael could see her now...

but he couldn't. because he left. and she hates herself for missing him.

tears fell from her eyes to her pillow as she let sleep take over. until 2am rolled in and her phone rang. she was sensitive to her phone ringing now ever since becoming an er nurse, on calls and all that. in a haze, she mindlessly picked up, not minding to look at the caller id.