You make my eyes well up. On the brink of a breakdown. Pruned fingers from too many dishes, piled high from friends; friends I am not sure that I really know. The phone rings from the other room. I was sitting on the bathroom sink with a candle, a cigarette, and the winter wind blowing in through the window. Of course I would never hear it.
An e-card from you. From all of you. Loud, but not obnoxious. A blur of sound. Music. I listened three times. To three voicemails. Nine listens. Nine times the puffy eyes. Nine times how much I have already been missing you.
So another binge night begins...
I have to get out of here. I should take myself to a better place, a more deserving place.