The month before last we talked as lovers, I held you in my arms. I looked into your eyes. I saw comfort, and happiness. Standing next to the stop sign in my front yard, smiling

Last month I remembered fondly how your eyes looked the weekend before you told me you couldn't be with me...

Last week I recalled how our how stupid I was for thinking of us. I repetitively told myself to stop and kicked the sign outside my house.

Last Saturday, I vaguely remembered the tears burning my eyes as you were saying goodbye to us, between multiple shots of ***** burning the inside of my throat.

Tonight, I realize how ****** up I am, and finally see why a beauty could never love a beast like me.

Tomorrow, I'll completely forget what it felt like to be "loved".