Just before I left I drank the half empty (half full) bottle of whiskey. Now it's true: nothing remains in this house that I want to be apart of. There's a letter on the stool plainly addressed: "Adrian," but this time there are no hearts, no smiley faces, not even so much as an underline.
Then I depart.
A lie. That's what I've been living. Every time I say "I love you" and every moment I touched her hand, it was false. Now this mask melted off and what remains is a person that I no longer know. One that knows no love. It's amazing how much negativity can be cherished. Rather than looking "over the rainbow," one can stand in the rain and scream toward the sky as tiny drops of pity fill a wide open mouth. The messages pile up on my phone and one swipe erases part of a life I wish to call a revised chapter. Now that freedom seems to be the only thing calling me and leaving messages...
The biggest question is where do I go?
Enjoy the walk down Th3rd Avenue, a derivative to understanding thoughts in our head, translated through opinions, statements and feelings.
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