Yeah..

Yeah...

It's...

It feels...

Fuck.

Maybe it just piled up. Year after year, disappointment upon disappointment. And maybe I'm just too tired or maybe just incapable of dealing with it or getting rid of it.

Like I said; yeah..

It's... It feels....

Fuck it.

You're looking at me with a puzzled look on your face, as my incoherent words and thoughts seem to confuse you further. I'm walking up and down the house, glass in hand, trying to gather my thoughts, but how can you do that when your brain feels shattered?

Maybe you should stop drinking, you suggest.

Honey, you don't know half of it.

Finally I sit right across you. I look up and see your face, that beautiful face the tips of my fingers have caressed inch by inch. Faint dark circles, you look a little tired but good. You're good. You're okay.

I look at you and wonder, how am I gonna do this? How do you let go? How do you see the person you love go away?

The thought alone breaks my heart.

How? How can I even dare say I love you when I can't bear the thought of you being okay and happy and shit without me?

I don't know how. I really don't.

But I do know that there's nothing else to do.

I look at you straight in the eye, I move a little closer, touch your hair and say 'go, be happy, and I promise I'll be happy for you'.

You get up and hug me, I swear I think my heart stopped and off you go, running off into the sunset.

And then, I'm alone. Glass in hand, not walking up and down the house, but feeling as if you took a part of me I'll never get back.

And that's how I know I'll never recover.

But that's love right? An ugly creature with angelic eyes.

And no words would ever be enough.