~Listening to Stuck With You-Anthony Amorim~
I woke up bright and early, and by that I mean one in the afternoon. My memory was foggy from the previous night and I still reeked of booze. I hazily remember calling you, but not what I had said-- Maybe that you looked nice? Maybe that I liked you?
Maybe that I loved you.
I sat up in my bed and grabbed the half empty bottle of whiskey of the nightstand and took a big enough swig to make my stomach churn, but I held it down. Anxiety was filling my veins and I was too scared to text you.
I didn't feel enough strength to stand and get my laptop across the room so I had no choice, I had to use my phone. I lifted it and clicked the on button as the screen lit up to five missed messages from you. I couldn't bring myself to open it sober-- I just have to make myself do it drunk, I thought as I took another swig of the whiskey and opened my messages.
Long story short you may not feel the same way, you may not love me. You most definitely didn't understand how severely I've been yearning you, but I knew to expect this. I couldn't even bring myself to text you back so I just lightly tossed my phone across to the other side of my bed and fell back onto my pillow.
In what felt like minutes I looked at the clock and it had become one in the morning, so I sat up and leaned forward, reaching for my phone. Nothing had changed, and I didn't know whether to be grateful or livid, but I received the same text that you send me every night.
You said goodnight, you said you love me, and then you wrap it up with a heart at the end of the message. It made my stomach flutter, and it made a smile paste across my face, I just wish that love wasn't platonic.
