So anyway the world seems to fit this specific rotation where I found myself sitting on this bar stool ordering well you know, not alcohol because, that one thing my body does so well is shut down start peeing blood not process anything it just kind of gives up, constantly, I mean you remember, that time you took me to the ER, How I couldn't stand up and they kept telling me it was going to be ok but I just looked at you and bleakly smiled because I knew it wasn't this is my slow decline incredibly painful, younameit
so,
clearing my throat and saying "just put some fizzy water in a glass and throw a lime in it, it's not that hard and don't look at me like that"
The dive bar God, it was your dive bar they were even playing that one song you played for me on the car stereo the happy one, the one I always picture you driving with your one hand on the steering wheel sun shining on us that ******* one and the bartender she rolled her eyes, walked off
I saw this reflection in the mirror the one right behind the bar while the neon red light illuminated my eyes in that moment this whiskey taste hit the back of my throat your sweat, your voice, all of it, taking over my entity without my consent I was stuck in the notes that stung tickled my tonsils I could feel you I swear you had to have been sitting in this exact spot an hour or so ago and the reflection was so used to you filling this space it almost just shot an image back of you at me
I wanted to call you write you send you one of those long emails we used to spend hours typing to each other to seem profound to rationalize our mental health by simply stating "well, we're writers" but then I remembered the last thing you said to me it was more of a question and I thought about how selfish that was "can we still..?" the anger just bubbled from there
it rose to my chest and I lifted my hand up and said "actually can you make it a whiskey?" "a double?
..?" and I waited for her to roll her eyes again, walk to the bar, grab the cheapest well whiskey I've ever seen and pour it heavy over two ice cubes
You would have liked that. Im sure you're ordering that right now.
I pulled the shot back waited for it to hit quickly requested a Lyft to the nearest hospital
because I knew in ten minutes it would send me spiraling and I would be there again in that same room where you laid still and I tried to sleep to not ***** on you to kind of just pretend this wasn't a memory I'd have to actively force myself to forget as I frequented the same sterile supplies day in day out
the room where you chewed on the words and spit them back out at me detailing the world I actively live in the one where where my body is a ticking time bomb and not a subplot for your novel
but as I rode with the windows rolled down
I still missed you I hated myself I wanted another whiskey I wanted that reflection again because at least
that would make this all feel closer This would all make a little more sense and maybe I could forgive you forgive myself stop recreating each moment like I was stuck in a perpetual hell Because it had to have meant something it shouldn't just sting.