Vodka and Regrets

            What are you supposed to do when you have nothing to live for anymore? When there is no one left in your life to turn to? No one there to talk you down or be your rock when you need some weight to keep you from floating away? What the fuck are you supposed to do when the one person who is supposed to be there for you is such a self centered ass that all they can see is how YOUR pain affects THEM? And that’s all they care about. Sure they make a lot of bluster about how they’re trying to be there for you, they’re trying to be what you need, but they’re not. They’re just pissed because they’re not the center of your attention. That pesky depression is taking up all your time. And how dare you? I mean, really, what’s your mental health compared to their need to be babied and given attention constantly like some fucking four year old in an adult body. They’re exactly the wrong type of person for you and you know it but that doesn't change how you feel. The heart wants what it wants. And often enough your heart is an idiot. We fall for people that are not what we need. We fall for people that don’t love us like we love them. Sure sometimes they come around but the books are never even. You've always got more in your outgoing account than you do your incoming because you started paying out long before they did. So, it’s three thirty in the morning, you’re fucking tired but you’re too upset and angry to sleep. You never sleep anymore anyway. And three fucking thirty in the morning seems like a fine time to pull out that bottle of vodka while asshole is in the other room pouting like a little bitch because you’re mad at him. He doesn't care why you’re upset, it’s all so unfair to him. Isn't it, though? It’s not as if you’re sick and fucking tired of standing in the same place while the world moves on, piling more and more shit on top of you, trying to break you when inside you’re already so broken how could you even start on the outside world, but he doesn't care. He cares that you've been neglecting him. Which you have. Because there are days that you can’t even get out of bed without wanting to scream and cry and drink yourself blind but all he cares about is what he is not getting not why he is getting it. He is never there for you. Every time he says he is, you know it’s not true. He is there for himself. But he doesn't like it when you tell him what he feels. No matter how many times you've been right. You’re never right til he says you are. Feminism at it’s finest, truly. A woman can only be right if a man agrees. So you’re sitting here and you’re sipping your vodka. It’s as bitter as your fucking life and that works for you. If it was storming outside would be better. Storming, dark, cold, vodka, hate, anger, pain, misery, hopeless. And music. Can’t forget the music. You have to have the music because it speaks for you. It soothes you. It takes your feelings and gives them away. And slowly, the anger starts to dissipate and in it’s place you find all the sadness, the neverending ache that just stays inside you making you feel miserable all the time. There’s no hope. You know it but that heart, it’s an idiot. And all the time it tries to feel hopeful, it tries to look on the bright side, but every little step in that direction is countermanded with such force and shame and pain that you’re knocked back even farther than before. So what do you do? Where do you turn? Nowhere but to yourself. You have to. But you don’t know how. You haven’t looked inward and found strength there in so many years that you wouldn't have any idea how to bring it out again. It must be there somewhere, you believe that, you have to. If you can’t, if you don’t, then how would you even try? Can you try? How would you begin? There seem to be no answers. So you just take another drink. It’s been a long time since you turned to alcohol as an answer. It isn't an answer now. You know it. But what else can you do? Tonight, there is nothing that can be done except to try to prepare yourself for the sun when it comes, then you’ll have a choice to make. Go back and die slowly, every day, losing a little more of yourself, or move forward, move on, find your own strength and take no shit, take a lot of names and leave a mark that will not soon be forgotten. But do you have it in you? Are you too broken to take that step by now? Are you doomed to desire a freedom and a life that you can never have?