someone will remember who we are

I’m trying to think how to describe you without sounding pathetic because I don’t know how to write about things that aren’t dark. about things that aren’t whiskey laced kisses, self-medicated inebriation, shivering in parks in the dark, wanting to go home, wanting to be alone. salty pillows, existential doubt, thinking there’s something wrong with me. regret. regret. regret. I can’t drink whiskey because it tastes like a time I can’t talk about, but I can say this: you’re the honey laced within the whiskey. you’re light. scintillating. you’re things I never thought I’d see; things I didn’t think I deserved. I dreamt of you, three nights in a row, and I didn’t wake feeling like you’d held my head underwater. these waves of good intentions are gentle, summer seas lapping over my skin. for a moment I feel sublime before the doubt comes in. I whisper to the darkness, I deserve this.