not even sure why I think it's a grand idea, but I force myself to
reach out for the beer and pick it up. Once I have it in my hand, I
force myself to bring it to my nose to really get up and close with the
smell. My forehead begins to sweat, my stomach turns, and I can taste
the bile in the back of my throat as I swallow. But I'm not giving
myself any leeway.
I will not allow this to break me.
bring the bottle to my lips and take a deep swig. When I don't throw
up, I take it as a win. Despite gagging, my body’s way of telling me to
stop, I need to see this through! I go to sniff the bottle again and gag
again. It's still not enough for me, and I don't know what I expect to
happen or why this is so important right at this moment. I just know
that it is.
hurl the bottle against the patio floor. The sound of it splintering,
while satisfying, does nothing to ease the pain running rampant inside
don't realize I'm crying until I can't see a thing but the tears on my
eyelashes. I curse how fucking weak and broken I am when I don't want to
be. I just want to go back to who I was before. But that's not how it
works, is it? We don't get to be something just because we wish it. . . 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵
𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴
18+ 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘔𝘍 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬
𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴
𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴: 𝘯𝘰𝘯-𝘤𝘰𝘯, 𝘗𝘛𝘚𝘋, 𝘢𝘯𝘥