closure

it's been 7 months since i had seen you last. and my, you have changed. every nerve in my body screamed to touch your face, but like a good girl i kept my composure. i knew what we were here for, i didn't like it... but i had no choice... and honestly, i never did when it came to you. 2 years of heartache, and this is what we had to show for it... 2 bottles of patron and whiskey. oh well, if i'm going to swallow some truth, why not make it burn a little? we sat face to face staring into each other. blank, as if, we never once knew how much we meant to one another... or how delicious each jolt of electricity felt when we touched. 2 years of beautiful. that's how i look at it. hell, we weren't perfect. there were dark dark days... and then, there were days that i thought the sun couldn't even compare to us. but we were this crazy twist of fate that turned into an unbreakable bond. our end wasn't pretty. in fact it was quite haste, and i wanted you to know that it was terribly hard for me to let go. it wasn't painless either. i didn't show it, but i knew you could see... 

first shot patron it went down easy, no chaser... not for this girl. you start to speak. voice low but clear and i can sense the hurt even before it comes out of your lips. your words hit me like a thousand flying daggers, piercing into my skin, cutting deep, gauging out old wounds and making them fresh again. second shot, whiskey ... and this time it burns. fight back tears. i feel the warming sensations spreading throughout my chest...slowly crawling up my lungs .... third shot whiskey, again. fight to keep it down. your still talking and then you say those dreadful words and the pain behind them seem indescribable. something wells up in my chest and i can't breathe, it hurts. cheeks flush red, room turns hot. you stop speaking. the silence between us becomes strange. see, the thing is, we couldn't go back, to that place and recreate what we once had. i'm scared to lose you. but like i said, i had no choice with you. fourth shot, cake walk... i feel the whiskey seep into my wounds and fill up what used to be empty. so much for tryin' to be a saint. stand up, walk out. 

we're done.