shaq-atttck
Shaq Attack ^.^
Filmmaker | Artist | Actor | Writer | Photographer
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I write to you cuz honestly it’s not about if we were to ever get back together. I honest to God just miss talking to you
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I miss you too...
For you.
I miss you when I’m drunk. Especially when I’m drunk. Drunk in love. Drunken rage. I guess that’s why I don’t drink anymore. Each sip is weighted with a memory of you and me. Each cup is filled with regret.
I should have loved you differently.
I did the best I could, I swear. I’m sorry.
You’re sorry.
I’m sick of us being sorry. I want to be us. But I’m so mad. I’m just so mad. Until I’m drunk.
And then I miss you.
I miss us.
I miss tennis, and 5 dollar movies, and going places I’ve never been to in the city I’ve lived in my entire life.
I miss these things while I’m laying in another mans bed in the middle of the night.
He asks me why I’m up.
“I can’t sleep”
My best dreams and worst nightmares star the same person.
You.
I shouldn’t be in this bed.
He shouldn’t have my cat when my curiosity is still with you.
Everything is with you.
Except me.
I can’t sleep.
I’m drunk.
My tears have your name on them.
My fingers tell my phone to tell you “I miss you.”
I don’t know how to stop.
Maybe I’m not suppose to.
I know I’m supposed to.
My drunk heart won’t listen.
It’s clicking it’s heals three times trying to return home.
But we’re not in Kanas anymore.
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