This path will be full of mistakes
and the end is a black hole.
One where I stand, then sit at the edge.
With a bottle - the type I haven't touched in months or
years.

and you're gone.

All I'm left with is unreliable memories,
chat logs...the fiction in my head.

We have to go this way,
you have no choice and I will walk with you
as long as you let me.

As long as you have patience.

If I want to make these mistakes with anyone, in front of anyone...

It's you....

                                                Thank you.