Misgivings

Where do I go when alone's not what I need? Further inside myself until nothing else is real?

Some people when they drink get nastier. Sadly, I'm the opposite. I'm friendly and cuddly when I've been drinking. Aloof and antagonistic when I"m sober.

Not because I'm wanting the alcohol. No, I've always been like that. I just didn't always have a cure.

How I got to be so emotionally shipwrecked that alcohol makes me better I don't know. But I know the things I've said and done. The people's I've hurt becuase feeling anything at all made me extremely angry with them.

And I know how easy it is to lay back and nestle into the folds of apathy. As if love were a distant moon and I could just lay back on the moist grass and look up at it. Seeing it more than enough. Not need to know how it feels to touch it.

I haven't love too much. Too many. Just a small handful. And I don't know who among them actuially loved me. It's better that way I suppose.

I just think sometimes that they know the drinking me. The cuddlesome one who's all emotion and fluff. But they don't know. Couddn't ever like that other person. The sober girl who thinks everyone is her enemy. And nothing is real until it hurts.

I try and I always fail to say the words that conjure in my head when confronted by real life. Potential friends. Unmedicated. The valves all shut tight. I push them away. Try to make them hate me. Because that is how I know they should feel.

And later on, a few beers later, I realize I want them. Always have. But they're so sober. And I've hur them. again.

They're always this open. But to them I'm always closed.

There's always an empty bed here. But no one ever sleeps in it.