Photo by Kleigh Balugo
I’ve never been drunk before.
(I know I need a reason.
My father was an alcoholic.
Is an alcoholic? He’s not dead. Just gone.
Is that a good enough reason?)
But if I ever did get drunk,
I imagine that it would feel
the way that I did
around you.
My judgment was clouded.
I couldn’t seem to remember promises
that I had made to myself before.
I did things that I knew I’d regret
like telling you my true feelings
even though I knew
that they were better kept a secret,
even though I knew
that they would scare you off.
Now I am left
alone and hungover.
I feel nauseous,
and it’s hard to find the energy
to do anything except
lay in bed
and think about you.
I guess I should have seen this coming.
I guess I did from the beginning,
but you were just so tempting
that I (in)conveniently forgot.
The only thing that can ease the pain
is what caused it,
but going back for more is not an option.
(I would if I could—
I’m more like my father than I thought.)
Kindergarten 