love is a grander thing than like. its plunging into the winter ocean. its peeling your muscle from your bones. its eating wasabi. pure and raw and painful, patient, honest, and i am not capable of baring my soul.
i stand here a shadow of a person, a reflection of your starlight, and you smile and i smile and we're all trying to pretend we're better than we are.
Half a bottle. Half a bottle of vodka. I was way to drunk for half a bottle of vodka. I stumble from the stove to the table, tripping over my feet, my tongue a useless lump in my mouth. My sister-god bless her- tells me to sit, to rest,(more) that I need food on my stomach, but the food doesn't help.
The night is a blur. I remember walking down the hall and falling into bed. That's all. After that my mind is a black hole where memories go in, but never escape. Half a bottle of vodka. Is that all it took?
The next day I feel like death. I sleep as long as I can, slap the darkest glasses I have over my eyes and retrieve my cup of coffee from the barista's hand with a grateful sigh- but not a word. Half a bottle of vodka? I've had that much and never had a hangover this bad.
Someone pulls out the bottle weeks later, tips it upside down, says 'this doesn't look right' at the powder gathering in the bottom. My stomach sinks into my shoes. His smiling face swims into the forefront of my brain, laughing as I tell him that I don't remember that night. "I must not have been that good" he laughs.
I know now that I won't ever know what really happened that night. Blissful ignorance only gets you so far. And so does half a bottle of vodka. (less)