#oliver-gilbert

𝑨𝑫𝑫𝑰𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 " 𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑺𝑲𝑬𝒀 " ═══ 𒆜 ═══

𝐀gonizing thoughts spiral and churn within my mind; relentlessly tormenting. I grit my teeth, the looming discomfort gnawing against my prefrontal cortex, and I release an elongated sigh. A small, raspy whisper tumbles from my gaped lips. 𝑖 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑑𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒. My fingers roll against the back of my neck, scratching and tugging at the strands that just faintly line my skin before drawing the fingertips along the border of my well-kept beard. 𝑁𝑜. My chest heaves and my breathing shallows. 𝑁𝑜.

Swiping my hands off my face, I lean my elbows against the hard, granite countertop. With the sensitive skin smearing against the hard surface, I glance up at the cabinet; the see-through glass allowing for a perfect scan of the various labels that tag each bottle. Dilated pupils, I knock the soles of my black shoes against the hardwood floor, standing still in utter hesitation. My heart seems to pump heavier with every contemplative glance, my head pounding, and my body going almost limp as I extend my grip around a bottleneck. 𝐹𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑖𝑡.

In one swift manoeuvre, the cap echoes off the granite finish, and I tighten my grip around the bottle; succumbing to the endless pleas and chants lingering in my head. Tipping the bottle, the rim eases over my lips, with the initial drops of the dark, smoky whiskey hitting against my tongue enabling a sick, yet divine smile to tug along the edges of my lips. Finally. My fingers snake more affirmatively around the bottle, gulping down a generous helping of the booze as every fiber in my body soothes into a tranquil regression.

. . .

The empty bottle lays on the floor by the kitchen counter, with my body slumped over in a lifeless state; blacked out and drunk, 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛.

𝐼 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝐼’𝑑 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟. 𝐼 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝐼’𝑑 𝑑𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟. 𝐼 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝐼’𝑑 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑛, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑒, 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑏𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖 𝑎𝑚.. 𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑙𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒. 𝐴𝑛𝑑, 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑒. 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒊 𝒂𝒎.