“This isn’t working anymore,
We have to break-up, for real this time.”
And that’s all I remember of that dreadful winter night.
Now here I am, at a bar in five in the morning,
Getting high on Bourbon.
The next few days were miserable,
Going places, I didn’t want to go,
Hurting people, I didn’t want to hurt.
Bruised. Collapsed. Broken. Tired.
My only escape?
A bottle of wine & some jazz that I admired.
My friends driving my drunken self to home every night,
My mother’s tearful eyes,
My dad’s lost smile.
Ever felt so lost that even the Pole Star couldn’t guide you home?
I wanted to end me.
She left me at the time I needed her most,
Was she just a mere ghost?
“Is she worth all the trouble?”, someone asked.
“Over my life, you bet. She’s The One.”
“How could you love someone so much,
Even though your heart aches against it?”
“Love is God’s diabolical plan, my friend.
It doesn’t have to make sense.
It’s a leap of faith you’ll know when you take.”
She was the ice. She was the fire.
It was everything that my heart ever desired.
A bit cold hearted, she was fighting her battles.
I knew in that moment that I got to keep her,
Locked. Secured. Always and forever.
“Quit whining over her dude. We’ve never even seen her.
Where’s this girl of yours,” My friends asked.
“Congratulations! Drinks on the house, mate,” said the Bartender,
Pointing at the ring on my finger.
How did it get on my hand? I couldn’t recall.
I t was the one I was carrying that night,
When I wanted to pop The Question.
There wasn’t any ‘She’ in my story. It was me all along.
‘Dissociative Identity Disorder’ can truly be a pain.
I’m the one who broke up with me that night, put on the ring myself.
I was the HIM. I was the HER. I was THE ONE.