August and everything after...

Everyone has a place where they go to just sit and be and think. I have the end of my driveway. It's quiet and peaceful and I get left alone. I can hear the sounds of the late night traffic and watch the stars or the moon or the bats swooping across the sky. I can even hear the trains rolling through a couple of miles away. It's that place where I can have a quiet word with myself and remind me that I'm just being a fool. I wish it was that simple. It's like a mantra, tell myself enough times and I'll believe. Mutter under the breath and trudge upstairs for a shower. I stand and study the lines on my face in the mirror, wretched and hopeless, wanting and waiting and worrying. God damn do I feel like a... What's the use? Have another drink, pass out and forget about it. Tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow is the day I remember how hard it is to let go. How easy it is to sit in the corner and say, "I can't deal with this. Perhaps if I ignore it, it will go away." Fitting really, I've been telling myself that for three days. Or even three months. It's not going away damn it. And I just don't know what to do anymore. Somehow it all feels completely and utterly and blissfully wrong. I could just sink into those grey-blue eyes and taste those cherry red lips. Anything else is just consequence.