I wanted so bad to ask how are you but I would have to be drunk before I could do that. I would have to be drunk before you answer that you are okay; that your life is great; that you got promoted; that you got a new puppy; that you are alone but happy. Honey, I would have to be on my 6th bottle of beer before I hear that you are fine without me by your side. But I won't tell you I hate it. I won't tell you that it hurts to know that your life continued while mine stopped after that last I-have-to-go late morning. I will try to pretend that I am also happy for you even if I still want you to be happy with me.
I wanted so bad to tell you I miss you but I would have to be drunk before I could do that. I would have to be drunk before I get those fucking 'hehe's and 'haha's and 'you're just drunk' replies. Honey, I would have to be on my 8th bottle of beer before I hear that you don't miss me anymore. It would hurt for sure, but you won't know that. You would think I'm just fooling around and got no else to bother. It would hurt so bad, but the alcohol will make me laugh at myself for being stupid. Alcohol will be there to save me from your change-of-topic strategies.
I wanted so bad to tell you I still love you but I would have to be drunk before I could do that. I would have to be drunk before you read those words then turn offline. I would have to be drunk because I know I'll be waiting for a reply that will never come; because I know it would break again my already broken heart. Honey, I would have to be on my 9th bottle of beer before your silence would mean you don't love me anymore. You would think I'm so pathetic or pitiful, but the alcohol would tell me I'm not. I'd drink my 10th bottle and I hope it would make me numb even just for tonight.
I wanted so bad to be with you but I would have to be drunk to feel like you're here beside me. I would have to be drunk and imagine I'm sitting on your lap while we smoke away the disgusting taste of beer; or pretend that I'm kissing your lips instead of these liver-damaging bottles; or remember your scent while you're naked on top of me. I would have to be drunk before I go back to the time when a little space in between our bodies were already too much, when our moans meant I-love-you's, and when our pillow talks lasted like forever. Honey, I would have to be on my 13th bottle and should be too intoxicated to even stand, or else I'd be on your doorstep— knocking and begging you to take me back in your life.