A heavier sip, as I wash down another gulp of whisky down my already corroded throat to numb the pain of a love long gone, the lover forlorn.
“Lydia, you left me”
The wee of the night along the lonely jetties of the southern shore unfolds the moon in its translucent dim with the clammy mist setting the tone for introspective soliloquies.
It’s been exactly six months and twenty one days since I last felt the fragrance of your smile, the tingling tickle of your affection and the soothing calmness of your touch. The tranquility in the smoothness of your lips and the gratification of our nooky romps.
“Another shot would heal me!”
I feel the hotness ravage my innards with another tear escaping my cheeks and my pallid knees threatening to give in. My senses gesture towards eruption as I attempt to scream but my words never seem to catch the air.
You shattered my heart to the shards of broken glass leaving it to wander in confused entropy. Lydia, you carved an enclave of deep nothingness within my soul tying it to a bane of hopelessness and abnegation.
“He is just my bestie”
Take a look at us now. Lydia, look what is left of me. I would fasten my pieces together with another bottle of whiskey as I continue my voyage in my banishment to lethargic ennui.3