It was Christmas eve and we were in her apartment doing lines. It was about 3 a.m. We'd been drinking and snorting for the last seven hours. Every part of us was numb except our hearts. Those were managing to squeeze out a few beats of tired blood despite of our best efforts.
Sooner or later we'd tire of our jaw clenching conversations about music, about families, about how wronged we'd been, about how misunderstood we were, about all the great things that would happen or about all the bad things that had already happened.
When we ran out of steam we'd end up in the bedroom and gradually poke and paw without really looking at each other, without really being there. We were just praying that maybe being inside each other would take away what the booze and blow couldn't. Alas, it never did.
In one of those moments of clarity I realized this was not really where I wanted to go. Maybe it was during the strains of U2's "All That You Can't Leave Behind," I really don't remember, but at one point I looked in her eyes and said, `I can't do this anymore. I need help.'
And she looked right back at me and said, `I can't help you.'
It was the most honest thing she'd ever said.
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5 comments:
"Every part of us was numb except our hearts."
If you were referring to emotion, that would have been a great line.
True, perhaps I'll revise down the road.
Dreaming of a White Christmas, just like the ones Rambler used to know.
--R.T. Firefly
Mr Gauer wires you need Coke. Stop.
My cartel authorized to advance you up to 20 Ks. Stop.
Hee Haw, Freebase and Merry Xmas!
Sam Wainwright
Revision and health considerations aside, I really like the vibe of this one. It felt real and I wanted to keep reading.
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