In Amiable Responsibility - A Note For Shieanne
I'm going to go ahead and admit it.
I've been drinking because of you. And I'm not ashamed of it.
But not once have I gone as far as the things that I have seen the past few weeks.
I haven't had any type of memory loss.
In other words - I haven't gotten shitfaced.
And in more ways than one, I don't plan on it.
However, in some of my drunken stupors, if I had a chance alone,
I wondered about you, about us. I haven't felt 'right' since ten days ago.
And I dislike it. But I can't continue on apologizing for it.
And I can't ask you to meet me somewhere so I can try and talk this out with you face to face.
You have your life, and I have mine, which happens to be blossoming nicely, for my standards anyway.
So I'm at a serious loss in trying to figure out a way to repair what little we had.
And honestly, the little we had kept me happy for such a long time.
Now that I have lost that happiness, I'm at a loss.
For the first time you pissed me off confused me, I think I did pretty well.
Although I felt horrible that I took shots in your name, after previously whining about how much I didn't want to drink it. I got buzzed, and a little mishap in coordination, but nothing that wasn't out of the ordinary.
I've never been mad at you. I never thought I could.
Maybe I was just getting angry at the fact that you were angry at me.
For whatever the reason, I just won't let you go.
I've probably said that I'm done with you about five times now.
And each time I remember specifically saying to myself, "Like hell you are."
I know somewhere that you still like me. You have to.
And if you move on that quickly, well, I don't wanna think about that.
I also don't know how many more letters and things I'll have to write you until we make things right, but I'll keep at it until things are right again.
I just want to be able to look at your face, or a picture and smile again.
Now, it just hurts.
Please, come back to me.
I've been drinking because of you. And I'm not ashamed of it.
But not once have I gone as far as the things that I have seen the past few weeks.
I haven't had any type of memory loss.
In other words - I haven't gotten shitfaced.
And in more ways than one, I don't plan on it.
However, in some of my drunken stupors, if I had a chance alone,
I wondered about you, about us. I haven't felt 'right' since ten days ago.
And I dislike it. But I can't continue on apologizing for it.
And I can't ask you to meet me somewhere so I can try and talk this out with you face to face.
You have your life, and I have mine, which happens to be blossoming nicely, for my standards anyway.
So I'm at a serious loss in trying to figure out a way to repair what little we had.
And honestly, the little we had kept me happy for such a long time.
Now that I have lost that happiness, I'm at a loss.
For the first time you pissed me off confused me, I think I did pretty well.
Although I felt horrible that I took shots in your name, after previously whining about how much I didn't want to drink it. I got buzzed, and a little mishap in coordination, but nothing that wasn't out of the ordinary.
I've never been mad at you. I never thought I could.
Maybe I was just getting angry at the fact that you were angry at me.
For whatever the reason, I just won't let you go.
I've probably said that I'm done with you about five times now.
And each time I remember specifically saying to myself, "Like hell you are."
I know somewhere that you still like me. You have to.
And if you move on that quickly, well, I don't wanna think about that.
I also don't know how many more letters and things I'll have to write you until we make things right, but I'll keep at it until things are right again.
I just want to be able to look at your face, or a picture and smile again.
Now, it just hurts.
Please, come back to me.