I’ve been here before.
I know this kind of pain.
It is some of the worst, most agonizing pain I’ve ever endured.
The intoxicated version of you.
I’m standing still in my room, waiting.
I keep my mouth open so the sound of my breathing doesn’t get in the way.
This time I’m ready for it.
That’s what I’ve told myself.
In the distance I hear the echo.
My pulse races.
Sweat forms.
Chills come out of nowhere.
I freeze up, though I shouldn’t.
This isn’t new territory.
I know what’s coming.
I’ve known it’s been coming.
As it draws closer, I panic.
I don’t move, though.
Finally, you appear.
Well, this other version of you.
You said you wouldn’t.
But I knew better.
You’ve made me hate.
You’ve ravaged my heart.
I don’t think I’ll survive this time.
But I do.
After you’ve had your fun,
I’ll get up.
I’ll walk back to my place and wait for you to do it again.
Because I hate being alone.
