When my ex took her life,
we were both newly single.
I was out of state,
she was out of mind,
and no one thought to tell me,
because, frankly, she had already
pushed everyone away years before.
We reconnected, while she was
seeing someone, who was taking
advantage of her, as she would later
come to explain. So when I drove
to her parent's home to pick her up
she was apprehensive, but only
because that's what she had been
used to, abused too.
We sat across from each other.
She told me how the last five years
have been long, and she missed me.
I told her it was mutual, but that
might have been a lie. My mind was occupied, hers too, but by voices that
weren't her conscience.
She told me how she
hasn't had sober *** in
a very long time. She told me
that she was a slob. She told
me she had two bottles of beer in
her bag. I had a bottle of whiskey.
We drank, and talked,
and kissed, and ******
And woke up to each
other the next morning.
I pour her a cup of coffee
before driving her home.
And after the car ride I
Told her I would talk to her
later, and I did.
Then we ended our relationship.
And I told her I would talk to her
soon, and I planned on it, but she
beat me to the punch, and knocked
all the air from my lungs.