2/4
Get drunk. Get high. The morning after. Plan B.
Is my entire life in plan B mode? I still fight with the demons inside of me and cry myself to sleep - over you.
"I am going to regret this in the morning, but I need to tell you how much you will always mean to me. And when I am alone in bed, I can't help but ache for the good we once were."
I used to call this desperation. But desperation for what? The poison we were. The raw emotion you evoked inside of me. The fight I became. Those demons that cling to my soul. My heart not able to beat without the hollow echo coming back in your name.
But to love without fear; to love freely. He teaches me this now. And he is my angel. This hook just keeps bleeding and tugging.
I miss my dad the most. I miss the smell of cigarette smoke and colgate toothpaste and the rough of his face when we hug- like only a father hugs his first born daughter. I miss all of his traditions, infant after the divorce, now grown and nostalgic. How when we would go grocery shopping he let my sister and I pick out frozen juice and popsicles, capri suns and air fresheners.
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