My raybans still covered my swollenΒ Β eyes as I stepped inside the Rite Aid, in my pathetic attempt to hide from the neighborhood how much I had been crying. Tears of anger and some of despair and others of sheer exhaustion had coated my cheeks and worn the edges of my eyelids raw and reddened my corneas. I had stumbled out of my apartment in an effort to rid my body of feelings, assuming the brisk spring breeze could somehow sweep up everything I felt and whisk it away as quick as it had come. I squeaked past a couple ******* clad women with sunken eyes that bore holes into the glass of the cooler as they stared longingly at the rather large variety of malt liquors, the selection of soft drinks lesser than the collection of 40s I passed on my way to the back of the store. I distracted myself imagining the taste of the various soda pops, a wild cherry Pepsi dissolving into my daydream tongue right before it turned to Big Red Cream Soda. Diet Sunkist in hand, I stared at the ingredients on the orange soda bottle and reread the same words over and over as he interjected himself again and again. I made my way to the counter, feeling ever grateful for my sunglasses as more tears welled, and I cleared my throat before mumbling a way-too-weak-for-an-outgoing-girl hello. Before I knew it my distraction faded from view, and I turned left down Oak as his face peeked out in my rear view mirror in the majesty of the sunset. I shook off a feeling of admiration and reminded myself that even after all this time he still manages to disappoint me as he always has. I murmured something about how, "He ain't ****" like I'm some bad ***** that doesn't give a **** about a dude. But then I remembered how deeply I had loved a man who never loved me back and never failed to prove it. My stomach began to drop, leaving me feeling as empty as the messages he had sent me in his pathetic attempts to convince me of ******* masked as the rhetoric he knew I wanted to hear, just enough to keep me around for his (admittedly) selfish reasons. I loved him and hated him all at once as I realized 4 months ago when I told myself (and him) that I was moving on, it was only my head that had, my heart still staggering, like a drunk stumbling off a belly full of cheap whiskey, And as I later drowned my sorrows in TV dramas and artificial sweeteners, I vowed to get that last piece back and really let go... I'll start tomorrow when I sober up.