Im sitting here drinking the only liquor that I've ever seen her get
Listening to the song that I showed him that correlates to everything about us and our time together. I want to get away but i don't feel like moving.
I want to cry but I can barely bring myself to feel a̶n̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ a ****** thing. And then, thinking of all the things that I'd like to change in my life, for the life of me, I cant figure out h̶o̶w̶ where (when?) to begin.

Looking up at the ceiling;
Its all I could do to keep myself busy. Sometimes I'll find myself staring into walls trying to think of what to think of. Sometimes, everything just feels like a ******* mess. My room, my face, my clothes, my body, my hair, my head. I try to clean it up, but where tf am I supposed to put all this ****??

Something happened. I didnt know how to feel. A walk seemed like a good thing to do. I followed the trail. I got angry. Why? It doesnt make sense. But it does make sense. Why? So angry. Clenched fist and uneven breathing. I cant do this. Stop. Breathe. Stop. Sit. Count cars. 25 cars speeding down the freeway. I see them. Do they see me? 50. Calming. Counting. Losing track. 100. They keep coming. Sometimes many all at once. 200. Sometimes sparce and few. 225. All these cars. All these people. So many lives. So many in different situations. So much i dont know. 300. 300 people have just passed me. Its been no longer than 10 minutes and so much experience has just driven by. I may never know their stories. Never to be seen again. Fleeting. Gone. 300 people who dont know me. Dont know my story. 300 people. Some would care. Some are too busy. Sure, some empathetic. Some feeling pity. Walking. Thinking. Numb. Smile at the nice people passing by. People pass and yet the road seems deserted at times. Walking.

There is an end. Though it maybe not quite an end. Things are not the same but thats where you end up.

I turn around and walk back.

The house is empty. As am i. I can feel the emptiness inside me.
     I love being alone. But not like this.
The feeling of betrayal chips at me
     threatening to reveal my true character.

     What will they think of me then.

i feel like the equivalent
of an abandoned paintball field.
I guess it could be peaceful.
But its a bit eerie to say the least.
Everything is all faded but you can tell
**** has gone down there.
You just cant know for sure what.
Like youre sure there were some great memories there.
But you also cant rule out
the possibility that
at one point in time,
someone has gotten an eye shot out.