Once again I find myself in my office. I'm drunk for the third time. I'm pretty sure I sobered up twice since that texts that broke me. I don't want to be here. It's easy to say just go fuck it off. You'll feel better. In my head I'm still married but in reality, she left long before the words where spoken. I can't go home as it is tainted in bitter lies. I should have known not to jump down that rabbit hole. Shouldn't have trusted a damn soul, but I did... All that's left now is a drinkun rambling fool.
I once had it all, my business that I find I would rather burn now. Had a wife, that I should have walked away from. A kid, who still looks up at me like I have answers. When I have nothing to offer. A brother who wishes we wasn't. I had a life and in one screwed up texts, it was gone.
How does a person start over? Sure I could go out and screw just about any one, there's plenty of offers through the years. I could pack everything I own and retire in another state. Maybe get one of those retirement packages in one of those resorts. I could go travel and see the world, but what's the use, when there is no one to share it with? No one to laugh with? My life that I knew is over with and I'll have to pick up the peices. Maybe I can be one of the lucky bastards who catches a bullet on my next outing. Maybe the next bail will go wrong and I won't have to worry about who gets the dog, the couch, the pictures or anything else.
It feels to unreal to walk into an empty house. Feels so isolated to look at the stain on the wall where the lamp broke. The couch that seen more stitches being put in then any er room. The kitchen that was the gathering place for our talks in the middle of the night. The bath tub I washed her in when she was to tired to wash herself.
It's my fault, all of it. I found her broken and I gave her a voice, strength, and a reason. Now I'm old news. Now she can stand on her own. Though wasn't that the goal? Make her better? She's not better. She still focuses on another. Some one I'll never be. Some one who robbed her of everything, every goal, every wish. I gave her those things and she's gone, yet he took it and she still calls his name in her sleep. Maybe some people are just meant to be broken? Maybe I'm just drunk.
I love what I have left. I love my job. I love my kid. I love my brother. I love the people who work for me. Is it enough? Is it enough to stay? Is it even what I want any more? Is there a button, I push it, and it will change anything? Maybe a DeLorean, it can take me back right? How far back would I go? Before the kids? After the kid? Before killing my mother? After her but before the kids were taken? Before her death but before the kids where conceived? Back to my childhood before my mother used me as her toy? Before killing my sister/child? I'm not sure, maybe before I was born a bastard of an old man? Back in the womb? But then I would have never found my brother or had Jenny. Fuck I'm too drunk for all these deep thoughts. Think I'm starting to sober up, I'm not ready for that either.
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