“I am sorry if you never felt me when I lie awake through the night
watching you sleep
trying to think of a way to thread you back into something whole”
I am sorry if I lied next to you that night, and could not get myself to heal your tummy. I could hear the rumbling of your stomach ever so loudly as I half-slept for 4 hours trying to sober up.
We had gone for drinks that night, a bar by your place. You looked impeccable as always. We tried a couple of new drinks from the specials menu, something about smoked tequila. I should have known not to drink hard liquor, I hadn’t had dinner, my stomach was empty not ready to handle.
After we did it, i found myself dizzy. We showered. You took me to the closest fast food restaurant, and got me a chicken sandwich to make me feel better. You ate a burger that you shouldn’t have had. We got in bed, dressed. I was still dizzy from the alcohol.
You turned over, I’d get glimpses of your back every time I opened my eyes to check if I was OK to drive. I remember wishing you were not in pain, I wanted to snuggle and cuddle you, but sharing a bed with a grown man again was no longer a familiar setting to me, and I didn’t know how to reach out to you, hold you, make you feel better. I knew you were in some type of agony, but you were trying to hide it from me and I couldn’t act like the savior.
I finally woke up around 5 o’clock, rummaged the spaces around your bed for my shoes and my bag. I put on my jacket and went to your bathroom to wash my face with cold water. In the dark, my hands walked from your knees on top of the cover hastily until they found your face. I leaned over to peck you with my lips. I walked out to my car, the sky’s deep blue turning lighter on the horizon, the sun was going to rise.