I sit on the steps
outside your apartment,
rage spinning up
my spine.
You are somewhere
down the road,
off in the distance,
anywhere except where
you are supposed to be.
Here. I stare
at my phone as each
of your messages
ping in. I'm sorry.
I'm coming. I'll be there
in five. Fifteen minutes,
twenty, thirty go by
before I finally see you,
hulking down the sidewalk,
telltale imbalance in your gait.
You're drunk and I'm livid.
What else is new.
You turn up the walk
leading to your door
and you shrug affably,
I'm an asshole dribbling
out of your mouth.
My jaw sets, my eyes narrow,
disgust flooding my veins.
You wrap me in the limpest
hug of our tenure and you stumble
past me to your door, your keys
fumbling in the lock. Why
didn't I just leave, my brain
scolds while you drunkenly
serve me a drink. I stayed
because of my mission.
I stayed because I had
something significant to say.
Staring now at your soft-
focused eyes, I know
you have won this round
of chess. You have spiked
your brain with poison
just to ensure such victory.
All of this before seven pm on a Sunday.
How can I end it
with someone who'll never
even remember it began?
My cells vibrate just looking at you
and nearly explode
when you feebly ask me, Didn't
you have something you wanted
to talk about? You know better
and that's what's the most
infuriating. You got drunk
before seven pm on a Sunday
simply to avoid the inevitable.
I fold my arms across my chest,
my lips flatlined. My soul
equally flustered and crushed.
We'll have to talk about it
another time, I say with a gravely
kick. I down my drink.
And I say goodbye.
Not goodbye forever, just
goodbye for now. You watch
me go, knowing that this
is a framework you can
live with. Because
two days later, you'll apologize,
you'll be sober, you'll be clear
in heart and mind. You'll convince me
to do a re-do and before I can say
what I intend to say, you will place
your hands gently on my arms,
you will look me kindly and lovingly
in the eye and you will say, Look,
I'm going to love you for the rest
of my life, and I will believe you.
The trouble is, I always believe you.
Drunk and spiraling forever more.
